Transubstantiation
by Electric Smile
Summary: When you wake up in the morning, you may have the expectation that you are still the same person today as you were yesterday. For two unfortunate individuals, this is not the case.
1. Chapter 1

When she opened her eyes in the morning, she certainly didn't expect this. It was horrifying. There were few things more dreadful than what she learned that afternoon as she rolled onto her side and slowly began to realize that she was not, in fact, in her own bed. That was problem number one. To think that maybe she had been kidnapped, or had somehow forgotten how she got here. She was certain she'd gone to sleep in her own bed, with one of her cats at her feet, as usual. Her sheets were a particular shade of green that she liked above all other colors, and her pillow was the squishy sort that her head could sink right into. These sheets were dark blue, and she didn't even feel a pillow. Her legs were twisted up in the covers, leaving her briefly trapped before she kicked her way free. She glanced tentatively over the side of the bed, finding the missing pillow on the floor. She'd nearly fallen off with it in all her tossing and turning.

The next realization that struck her with terror was the fact that she was no longer wearing a shirt. "My clothes!" she cried, looking down at herself. Then she clamped both hands over her mouth. The voice that had come out of it was most certainly _not _her own. It was masculine, didn't carry an English accent. She began breathing a little heavier as she noticed she no longer had secondary female sex characteristics. Hesitantly, she looked down at her jeans-jeans that she most certainly had not been wearing-and pulled the waistband up. That glimpse at her crotch gave her confirmation of her new and suddenly adopted gender before she quickly looked away. "Oh God, Oh God," she whispered, but then groaned again at the sound of the male voice coming from her lips. She couldn't think of a worse way to start her morning.

She rolled out of the bed, and stumbled towards what she hoped was a bathroom, in search of a mirror. She stared into it for nearly a full minute before reacting. This could not be possible. It simply couldn't. Long, blond hair was pulled back into a loose braid, stray strands of hair falling about a tanned, flawless face. Blue eyes filled with horror. The person in the mirror was not at all herself, but one of Shadaloo's top ranking officials, Vega. "I'm _evil!"_ she shrieked. The shock hit her all at once with the exclamation, and she passed out.

Miles north of Spain, in a small apartment with several cats milling about, a different pair of blue eyes fluttered open. He, however, knew something was wrong almost instantly as a cat was laying on his stomach. He raised an eyebrow, and glanced down, noticing right away two very new, surprising features on his much slimmer body. He sat up immediately, and looked down at himself. He was dressed in flannel pajamas. _Flannel. _His hands went to his crotch as a thought suddenly struck him, and he felt nothing there. No man, he thought, should ever have to know that terror. He jumped up, nearly crushing another cat with his foot, and looked around the room. There were posters on the wall, a few pictures on the nightstand beside the bed he'd been laying in. "_Madre del Dios,"_ he muttered in a very feminine, and somewhat familiar voice. "Oh _shit." _His English carried a British accent, further evidence to confirm his creeping suspicions. Wandering into the next room, he looked around for a bathroom. The place was a _mess_. Clothes were strewn everywhere, books littered tables, old dishes sat on the counter, only a few ever making it to the sink. He curled his lip at the sight of it.

Finally, he found the bathroom. Kicking aside a few used towels, he got a good look in the mirror, gritting his teeth as he did so. Reflected there was a pale, scarred face. Long, blonde hair was held together in a low ponytail, save for the strands that were too short to reach. He curled his hands into fists at his side, a scream ready to tear from his throat. "Bison..._hijo de puta!_"

Needless to say, it was going to be a long day for the both of them.


	2. Chapter 2

"Sir...?"

That voice laced with uncertainty brought her back to reality. Or what was left of it, at any rate. She quickly remembered why she was laying on the cold floor of a bathroom that wasn't hers to begin with, and nearly puked from the anxiety.

"Hey, are you okay?"

It took her a second to realize that the woman was speaking to her in Spanish, but she understood all of it perfectly. The extent of her Spanish vocabulary was 'hola', buenos dias', 'por favor', and maybe how to count to ten, if she concentrated. She wasn't sure just yet whether or not she should've been grateful for that fact that she understood the woman. She pushed herself up into a sitting position, leaning back against the wall and glancing up at the woman in the doorway. She was older-maybe in her forties-and dressed casually. There was a bottle of cleaning solution in one of her hands, and Cammy realized she was here to clean the house. What a lazy bum, she thought. He couldn't even be bothered to clean up after himself, and hired someone else to do it? Then she thought of her own apartment, and the state in which she often left it, and frowned. Maybe she shouldn't be throwing stones just yet. Finally, she nodded her head in response to the woman's inquiry.

"You sure? Why were you on the floor?"

Cammy shrugged. She wanted to avoid speaking if at all possible. She didn't want to hear that masculine voice come out of her lips again.

The woman sighed heavily. "Mother of God, I pray for you every day, kid. You're so strange sometimes."

She couldn't argue with that. The woman obviously didn't know some of the more insidious habits in which Vega indulged, or she wouldn't still be his maid. She hoped, anyway. With a slightly apologetic look, Cammy shrugged, and got to a standing position, leaving the bathroom for the bedroom again. She took a second this time to look around and familiarize herself with it. Typical male-there wasn't much to it at all but for the bed and a few drawers. Life was not as fun without adorable little nic-nacs and other things collected along the way, she thought. But she wasn't given much time to contemplate the simplicity of the room before she heard something in the bed buzzing. It was familiar-the sort of noise everyone knows. She stepped towards the bed, pulled away the covers in search of the source of the buzzing, and finally found it. She liked all kinds of gadgets, and was a bit excited to get to play with this one in spite of the situation.

The number on the screen made her heart leap up to her throat. It was her own. Why would someone be using her own cell phone to call Vega's? Unless...

The complete horror of the situation dawned on her as she realized that just as she was now inhabiting his body, someone else might have been inhabiting hers. It sounded ridiculous to even think of, but again, she looked down at her bare chest, charcoal colored jeans, and remembered that, at this point, she was beyond the realm of 'impossible'. She finally answered the phone, swiping a finger over the screen and holding it up to her ear. She dreaded speaking, but knew she had to do it. "H-hello?"

"I would never in my life sound so uncertain!" She nearly choked, hearing her own voice shouting at her on the other end of the line.

"Who are you, and what have you done?" she replied, a bit more confident. Now she found the deeper voice sort of helped her feel more sure of herself. She felt like she was in control of the situation immediately, even though the aggression of the other party quickly changed that.

"What have _I _done?" they replied, plainly furious with the accusation. "No, no, no, sweetheart, I think you're confused! I haven't done anything! I woke up in this filthy slum out of _nowhere_ and-" They were so angry they couldn't even talk straight.

She frowned. "My home is not a slum..." she said, a bit offended. Maybe it wasn't the most cleanly kept home, and maybe her flat wasn't in the nicest building in London, but it was far from a slum.

"Don't. Whine!" the other ordered. She'd never heard herself sound so angry in her life. "Not with my voice! I _do not _whine!"

"Vega!" she cried without thinking. It made sense, of course, but she couldn't be certain how many layers there were to this body-swapping thing. She dreaded the thought of some massive network of reversals, and supposed that, at least, it was just the two of them with this problem. So far.

"And the last horse finishes the race," he said. "Try to keep up, eh?"

"How did this happen?" she asked.

"I'm sure it's something to do with Bison," he said. At least he sounded irritated about this. If she had to be miserable, it felt like a weird sort of comfort to know he was as well. "I've been trying to get a hold of you for hours now! You sleep like a cow!"

She glanced at the clock on the bedside table. It was nearly one in the afternoon. "It isn't that late," she said.

He groaned, then said, "This is unbelievable. I want you out, now! You're going to ruin me!"

"Me?" she cried in protest. "You-you awful...jerk!"

"I'm much more articulate than this," he said. "We have to fix this immediately, before you have me ripped apart by every media outlet in Spain."

That hadn't hit her yet. She forgot about Vega's daytime personality, and suddenly, she was nervous. He was a celebrity. Certain behavior was expected of him. What if she had to stay in his body for too much longer? How would she know how to act? She bit her lip as she thought it over. There was the possibility of turning herself in as a Shadaloo commander and getting Vega locked away for good. But then, she thought, what if this was permanent? She didn't want to spend the rest of her life in jail. Not that she wanted to spend it trapped in Vega's body, but she supposed having both at once would be one of the worst possibilities she could think of. So that wasn't an option, for now. In turn, she thought of her body, and worried. Would he take it back to Shadaloo? Was that what this was all about-getting a rogue soldier back? If so, it was a pretty extreme and unusual way to go about it. What if he killed someone while in her body? How could she ever prove that she hadn't been the one to do it? She couldn't exactly tell a court that she wasn't in control of herself at the time. They'd put her away-in a mental hospital, if not a prison. "What do you propose we do about this then?" she asked sharply. He seemed to know a little bit more about what was going on than herself, so she decided to let him do some talking.

"We need to find Bison," he answered.

"No."

"_Pollino!"_ he spat. Her voice had the Spanish accent and everything, as if she'd been speaking it all her life. The novelty was lost on her though when she realized-with the help of Vega's brain-that he'd just called her an idiot.

"Hey!"

"Stop being so obtuse! You want your body back just as badly as I want mine!" She couldn't argue with that. But meeting with Bison? That part had trouble written all over it.

"Fine, we can meet with him, but I want someone on my side," she said. "It would be senseless for me to just go wherever the two of you say and leave myself completely vulnerable to kidnapping or attack."

"I _don't care _who you bring! I just want you out!"

"Good. Then where do we meet?"

He was quiet. "Well, that's why I've been trying to get a hold of you. Of me. _Whatever!_ I need his number out of my phone."

"Then I can just call him," she said. "Cut the middle man."

"I want to hear what he was to say with my own ears." Then he sighed, realizing the poor choice of words. "You know what I mean!"

"Okay." She held the phone away for a second and looked at it. She wasn't familiar with this particular phone, but figured that most phones were enough alike that she could get it to do what she wanted easily enough. With a tap of a finger, she was scrolling through the contacts list, then frowned. She held the phone back up to her ear. "I don't see his name in your list."

"It's under _capitán_."

She giggled a little. He sighed on the other end in frustration. "Sorry," she said. "It's just silly." She went back to the list, and tapped the name, initiating a three-way call. In a few more seconds, she heard a familiar voice. One that she would never be able to forget, no matter how hard she tried. Instantly, she became quiet, unwilling to draw Bison's attention to her.

But Vega was still livid enough for the both of them. "_Eres tan estúpido como un perro!_ You stupid, stupid-!"

"Well, that's always an interesting way to start your night," Bison murmured. "Good afternoon, Vega. Killer Bee."

"That isn't my name," she said coldly. She hated hearing that code name. She was sure he knew that, too. He'd do anything to show his power over another person, to flaunt how easy it was for him to manipulate one's emotions. Maybe she shouldn't have given him what he wanted, but how could she not react to it?

"Fascinating," he said. "It worked. Most certainly not in the manner in which we planned, but it worked."

"What worked?" she asked.

"Experimentation with consciousness. Spiritual matter. That which makes you...you," he explained. He sighed, knowing he'd have to simplify this in order to get it across quickly before Vega lost it again. "We were experimenting with the process of transubstantiation in order to verify that the newest android prototypes were fit to be hosts, and Vega-we thought it didn't work. When you tried it, and nothing happened, we were certain that we would have to revise our methodology. But this tells me we were doing something right."

There was a silence as they contemplated this. Cammy wanted to say she couldn't believe what she was hearing, but this was Bison. There was no end to the bizarre, almost supernatural things in which he involved himself in. This one should've been nothing new. The tense silence was broken by Vega saying, "_M__ás tonto. Que. Un perro."_

"Stop it," Bison snapped. "You're behaving like a child."

Cammy sighed. "How do we fix this?" No reason to mess around. What else was there to say to him?

"I can't be certain. This didn't work the way we thought it would, and in turn, we can not expect the reversal process to still be applicable to this situation. It was designed with the specifications of the android body in mind, not two completely organic subjects," Bison said.

"How did we get this way to begin with?" Vega asked. "I was very much myself the days after the experiment."

"That's something else we'll have to look into," Bison said. "Without knowing exactly how you two somehow managed to exchange identities, we can't know how to reverse it."

"How long will this take?" Cammy asked wearily, beginning to fear that they were in this for a long haul. Experimentation, she knew, could be an agonizingly slow process. She'd told herself time and time again that, since breaking free from Shadaloo, she'd never go back to being a subject of some test. Someone's science project. But here she was, and what choice did she have now but to cooperate? Once again, her life was being toyed with by Bison.

"I don't have an answer for that," he said. "It could be a day. Could be years. I should hope, at worst, it takes no longer than a month."

"No!" Cammy and Vega cried out in unison.

"What are we supposed to do until then?" Vega asked.

"Become familiar enough with each other so as to pass off as your normal selves and not arouse any suspicions of mental issues or drug addiction," Bison suggested. They could practically hear him shrugging with nonchalance, as if this weren't a big deal at all. "I don't have time to worry about your personal problems with the work I'm going to have to do just to reverse this process." With that, Bison was gone, leaving them to sort the rest of the matters out themselves. His only real concern was getting Vega back, in the event that Cammy turned him in to the authorities forcefully.

"Well...what do we do?" Cammy asked.

Vega was silent, and she was beginning to think he'd hung up too when he finally spoke. "You have to learn to be me, and I have to..." He glanced around the messy apartment, and a cat meowed up at him. He wrinkled his nose in disgust. "..learn to be you."

"Great. No one's going to believe this," she muttered, putting a hand to her head. She growled a little, becoming irritated with all of the hair she'd just pushed into her face. Swiping it back, she said, "How do you put up with all of this hair in your eyes! I swear, it's irritating!"

"Don't you dare even think about cutting it," he said. She didn't know her voice could take a tone like that, so severe and cold all at once. "Or all of yours will be gone too! And your cats!"

She was going to say she didn't care at first-hair was just hair, and it grew back. But then he brought her cats into it. "If you touch _any _of them, I'll leave you missing more than your hair," she said dangerously.

There was a noise sort of like an exaggerated exhalation and a groan from his end. "These threats are going nowhere," he said. "We can both ruin each other in a dozen different ways, but it won't change anything."

That was true, but he couldn't just go around threatening people's cats like that. "I suppose you're right," she said. "Then...where do we start?"

"I'd like to arrange a meeting," he said suddenly. "It can be wherever you'd like, I don't care. Money isn't an issue, and I'll pay your way as well as my own just to get to make sure you _don't _destroy my body somehow."

"Fine. I'll come back to England," she said. If he had the money and was willing to pay, she certainly wasn't going to complain. "I'll be there as soon as possible." They ended their conversation, and she locked the phone, placing it in her rear pocket. Inhaling slowly, she looked around the room for whatever shirt he'd been wearing the night before, and was startled to see the maid staring at her from the bathroom.

"Mister...are you _sure _you're okay...?" she asked, raising an eyebrow slowly.

Cammy smiled nervously, and nodded. "Of course! My...associates-" she couldn't bring herself to call them friends, not by a long shot, "they're just, you know. Kidders. Um...how about you take a paid day off! The bathroom looks pretty clean, everything does, really, more than I'm used to, at any rate. You should see _my _flat, it's covered in cat hair and-" She stopped herself once again. She was supposed to be Vega. "You know, just go enjoy your day!"

The woman continued to stare, wondering if this was some kind of joke. It wasn't that it was hard to get him to give her a day off. But the conversation, along with the bizarre, almost uncertain way, in which he was speaking left her dumbfounded. But she wasn't about to argue with a little bit of paid vacation time, and shrugged. "All right. I'll see you in a few days then," she said with a nod, leaving the room.

Cammy let out a sigh of relief. The woman was suspicious, but who wouldn't be after a display like that phone call? She twisted her new lips into a frown, and hoped the day would at least end better than it had started.


	3. Chapter 3

Cammy decided that she was taking all of this pretty well. It was an incredibly disconcerting and awkward situation to be thrust into, but she was keeping a cool head about it. There was a strange sort of excitement to being dropped into somebody else's life, seeing everything through their eyes in the most literal sense. Even though this life was Vega's, it was still interesting enough. She didn't know what she expected as she explored the place in search of a computer. He had to have one, even if she didn't picture him as being particularly proficient with one.

She was momentarily distracted from her search when she passed an open window. She stared out of it. The view was astounding. Blue water sparkled under the noon sun. People milled about on a shoreline that stretched away in either direction, their towels and blankets and umbrellas like multicolored polka dots scattered haphazardly across the sand. "Wow," she whispered, leaning her hands on the window sill. She could see why it was left open. The salty air was warm without being overbearingly humid. She liked England. But this was certainly nothing to complain about.

Eventually she tore herself away from the window. His laptop sat on a coffee table, and she dropped heavily onto the couch before turning it on. Of course his computer would require a password. She closed her eyes for a second. If she had Vega's brain, then she had to know the password. It was strange, but before she even knew what she was doing, her fingers roved over the keyboard, entering a seemingly meaningless combination of numbers and letters. It was easy, as if it were her own password. That made her a little worried. If nothing in his mind was private from her, then the same would go for her mind with him. She frowned. She should be changing passwords and pins more frequently, anyway.

The desktop was immaculate. The computer was clean, too. She thought of her own laptop and how nearly half of the desktop was filled with random images, text files, folders, programs she'd downloaded once and never used, and stray cat hairs and crumbs had laced their way around parts of the keyboard. Of course, her curiosity got the better of her before she made her way to the browser to order airline tickets, and she found herself clicking on a few files here and there. There were a few incomplete interviews with some media outlets. She sifted through them, only half interested. Most asked boring questions anyway. There was a file that essentially amounted to a 'to-do' list. Not terribly exciting either. Didn't he keep anything juicy on here? Apparently not. Dull.

With that curiosity satisfied-or dissatisfied, since there wasn't anything to even see-she made her way to a site to order a plane ticket. That necessitated payment information, and she twisted her lips to the side as she glanced around. She never carried a purse, always having her money and cards in her pockets. The grief she got for it from friends was making her consider buying one. So if she _did _own one, where would she have put it? And would men put their wallets in a similar place? Oh, who knew. It had to be somewhere, at any rate, so she stood up and searched around for it.

The apartment-maybe it was a condominium, she didn't know-was very neatly organized, very clean, and these things made it easier to search. She thought of how hard it might be to find something in her own home, where she tended to just leave things wherever they fell. Whether she wanted to or not, she began to feel embarrassed about him being there, given how orderly he seemed to like his home to be. But then, maybe her home would be cleaner too if she could pay someone to pick up after her.

No luck in the kitchen, so she wandered back into his bedroom. There, on the dresser, along with a few other random pieces of junk to make her feel less like a slob for once. She opened it, pulling out the first card she saw, stopped and glanced at his ID. Wasn't everyone supposed to look terrible in these pictures? She scowled a little. Someone as evil as him should look it, too, but he didn't. He got to be pretty, no matter what, with a charming smile that looked genuine and never forced. Isn't that how Satan was, too? She closed the wallet, a bit irritated, and dropped it back down.

The other items caught her eye. She uncrumpled a small piece of paper, a receipt for some coffee. There was a book, and she didn't know what a gaucho was, much less what made one insufferable, so she pushed it aside. Reading hadn't ever been much of a hobby of hers anyway. Under it was a notebook. Now, maybe that would be interesting. He seemed self-involved enough that it was almost a given that he kept a journal of some sort. She looked around, as if nervous someone would walk in and shout '_caught you!' _But, of course, nothing like that happened, so she opened it.

And it was just as boring as everything else so far. A list was on the first page, almost all of it crossed out. It was his _groceries. _He was infuriatingly boring, wasn't he? She picked through a few more pages. '_Oh my God, listening to you speak is like hearing a donkey braying!' _he'd written beside some random sentences he'd jotted down-a phone number, a time. There was a doodle of a man in a business suit holding a phone to his ear, only instead of a person's head, it was a donkey with its mouth open and she smiled at it. She flipped a few more pages, and stopped when she saw more drawings. She didn't think of him as having any normal hobbies, but these were quite nice, and she wondered how long he'd been interested in art-

_Once, twice, third time's a charm, right? I don't hiss or wince when he smacks me in the back of the head like that. I don't give him the reaction he's looking for. Why should I? It'll only make it worse and I swear I'm going to be the bigger person here. "Don't ignore me when I'm talking to you," he says and I nod. Sure, whatever, just go away and let me finish. This has been weeks upon weeks of work and it's due tomorrow and such a significant part of my grade, I can't mess it up. "Next time I tell you to do something, I mean right when I say it!"_

_"Okay." He's kind of drunk, and I wasn't going to argue with him because he doesn't pull punches when he's drunk._

_"Okay?" He hits me again and I do wince that time, hand flying up to the side of my head. "I think you mean, 'yes, sir!'" I don't say it because I don't respect him and surely I'm entitled to some dignity in my rapidly disintegrating life. I don't know why she married him, I'd rather be starving and living under a bridge than with this creature._

_"No don't do that!" I finally break my stoic resolve when he picks the pallet up, and smears it across the canvas. All that work, completely undone in the blink of an eye and why did I have to be so damned stubborn?! I can only stare in horror as the pallet, which sticks to the canvas for a few seconds, falls away to the rug. It reveals a ruined, muddy mess and I want to scream at him but what would that get me? Probably a concussion, if I'm lucky. The paint is in the fibers of the rug now but I can't take my eyes off the canvas._

_"Maybe you'll listen to me next time!" I don't answer, just staring, all that work. I don't think self-pity really gets anybody anywhere, but I can't help but wonder for a minute, why does he hate me so much? I was fair, I gave him a chance, but he never gave me one, and shit, I just hate him, that's all there is to it, and I've never hated anybody before. That man is a monster and I'll die before I ever come close to being anything like him. _

She shook her head. Were those memories of his, jumping out to the forefront of her mind, so vivid that _she _even felt a bit angry about what had happened? There was a pang of guilt for having witnessed such a pathetic moment in his life. People who hit their kids were a special sort of awful. But no amount of abuse justified him in killing people, in working with Bison. She wouldn't feel bad for him. She tried not to think more about him or his past, fearing what kind of memory she might end up evoking.

So he'd wanted to be an artist, or at least, had a passion for it. She supposed it made sense that someone so obsessed by beauty and aesthetics had such an interest as that. She looked back down at the page, wondering if he was any good. It was some woman's face drawn multiple times with different expressions and at different angles and... "Wait a minute," she whispered. It looked quite like her, and she frowned. Was this weirdo obsessed with her or something? She flipped the page. A woman with hair reaching down her back in waves walked through tall grasses. Her back was to the viewer, one arm out, fingers grazing the tops of the blades of grass, and only a profile of her face was offered. But even that was enough to give Cammy the creeps. She thought about ripping it out and throwing it away to show him that she saw his weird little drawing, and didn't feel flattered in the slightest. She would have felt guilty though, as he probably spent a bit of time on it, and it was well done. Why couldn't she be the muse of someone who wasn't a bloodthirsty killer, though?

With a frown, she decided to stop looking through his things before she became creeped out even further. She supposed she deserved it for snooping, but who wouldn't in a situation like this? She knew she wouldn't find anything linking him to Shadaloo here-Bison, at least, wasn't stupid enough to allow someone as prestigious as Vega to risk connecting himself to the organization. So there really was no good reason to keep looking, save to satisfy her own curiosities. She went back to the computer to order the tickets. She was eager to be back home in a familiar environment.

Having finished that task, she set about finding something good to eat. She was mortified to find that there was no cereal. Not a pastry. No cookies. Nothing to satisfy her sweet tooth. No wonder he was so crazy. He couldn't mellow out with a dessert. She frowned as she picked through the fridge. There wasn't a whole lot that she could grab quickly and eat. There were some fresh vegetables and fruits, hummus-she nearly gagged at the thought of it-some cheese. She began to wonder how frequently he shopped for groceries. How often was he even here at all? She finally settled on some round, red fruit that looked as if it were wearing a tiny crown. After having sniffed it, it gave off a kind of pleasant odor, and she decided it was worth a try. She cut it in half, and the resulting, juicy mess made her curl her lip. It looked like a honeycomb full of blood. But Vega's brain was set on eating it after having smelled it, and she had to fend off a craving for something she'd never even eaten before. She cut the halves into quarters, picked one of the pieces up and inspected it closer. "You'd better be delicious," she muttered at it. She was very happy to find that it was, but the texture was too bizarre for her to enjoy the taste. Crunchy, juicy, and hard, she figured she must've been eating it wrong, but forced herself to swallow it. "Ah, I'll pass." She picked the other pieces up, and tossed the alien fruit in the garbage.

She went over her own morning routine as she thought of what to do next. The flight would depart later in the evening, and she had some time to kill. Usually when she woke up, she ate-_real food_. But there didn't seem to be any of that around. So she'd have to go out and get something, which required a shower. Her eyes went wide at the thought of that. How was she going to take a shower? Maybe she could close her eyes the entire time until she was dressed again. He'd better be giving her the same courtesy, she thought angrily. She tried not to think about the inevitable as she searched for a fresh change of clothes, and started the shower. She glanced nervously in the mirror-now that was an expression she'd never seen Vega wear before. "Okay," she whispered, breathing in deeply. "One, two, three." She screwed her eyes shut and pulled off the clothes quick, as if doing it fast would make things less awkward. And then she was in the shower, dismantling the braid as a way of distracting herself. It wasn't so much the idea of accidentally seeing him naked as it was wondering if he was a huge pervert or not. The fact that she hadn't come across any porn on his computer was slightly reassuring-he was ahead of the game in that department. But men were driven by that piddly little organ down there, it seemed, and she didn't want him looking at her that way. She gritted her teeth at the thought of it. "That jerk," she growled, turning around towards the water and rubbing it in her face. "Why did this have to happen anyway? What have I done so wrong to deserve this?" She turned away, rubbed her eyes as she looked down at the floor, opened them and-

"Ahhh!" she screamed and jumped, nearly falling flat on her back. She clamped both hands over her crotch and squeezed her eyes shut. "Didn't want to see, didn't want to see," she cried over and over as if in apology. But now she was doing worse than before by touching it. She made a noise at that, and held her hands up. It wasn't what she expected-it was so _floppy_ down there and now she had to wonder just how big-

"Shower's over!" she cried, turning the water off and grabbing the towel as quickly as possible. How had she botched that so badly? With a sigh, she screwed her eyes shut again, drying herself off quickly. It was just an accident. And she didn't have to tell him about it. Eyes still closed, she pulled on the clothes she gathered, and was at last able to look around again. If she was going to be in this body for an extended period of time, she thought she may consider blindfolding herself before showers. With a frown, she reached behind her head and, without thinking, began dividing the hair into two equal amounts and started to braid her pigtails as usual. When she realised they ended much sooner than usual, she glanced in the mirror and nearly choked, forgetting this wasn't her hair. But then she giggled. Would it be wrong of her to take pictures to use as blackmail against the vain celebrity sometime? She frowned, however, when she remembered he could do the same sort of thing to her. This wasn't any fun if she couldn't have an edge over him. Quickly, she unraveled the braids, and put the hair in his usual loose, careless style. After brushing her teeth and finding a pair of shoes, she set out in search of food.

* * *

In England, however, a very irate body-snatched individual was ready to tear his hair out. Something horrible was happening. He felt like he was dying. Wondering if perhaps it had to do with the experiment, he managed to make his way over to the computer and send a message to Bison, all but begging the man to call Cammy's phone, leaving a number. He would've called her, but he couldn't risk putting her in a panic. Plus, he knew for a fact that Bison would call him quicker this way. If he had to go through Cammy to get Bison's number again, it could result in more arguments and threats.

He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut, and dragging himself back to the bed. Christ in Heaven, his insides were twisting their way out of his body, he was sure of it. He dropped onto the bed, curling in on himself. One of the cats jumped up onto the bed to lay next to him, and he half-heartedly tried to push it away. It didn't seem perturbed, and he couldn't be bothered to keep trying. Finally, he heard the phone ringing beside him, and he snatched it up, answering it without even looking.

"What is it? What's gone wrong?" Bison asked quickly. The message Vega had sent claimed it was urgent, that it had to be something to do with the body-switch. Bison thought that perhaps it was an unfortunate side-effect of the body attempting to reject his consciousness, or maybe even a degenerative issue with the body itself.

"My insides feel like they're being clawed out by an animal," Vega said. "There's migraines, and I think I might vomit my intestines up."

Bison was quiet for a minute, contemplating the symptoms. "Where is the pain, exactly?"

Vega grabbed his lower stomach as he thought about it. "Lower on the abdomen, and even in the lower back."

Then, Bison sighed. Was this really Vega's urgent message? He laughed a bit, amused by how oblivious Vega was about this, and said, "You aren't dying."

"How can you tell? It feels like it," he muttered into the phone. "It's as if someone's stabbed me in the stomach and started twisting the knife around."

"Because it happens to billions of women once every month, and they all live through it well enough."

Vega blinked rapidly at statement. He felt suddenly embarrassed and terrified all at once. "What are you saying?"

"I think you know."

Vega groaned loudly. "It isn't funny! Fix this! I don't want to live this horror! No man should!"

"Just be patient," Bison said.

He was quiet for a second as he contemplated the inevitable problem that was coming his way any day now, if the pains in his stomach were any indication. "What...ah, um...how do I deal with...?"

"Surely you can figure that out on your own."

"She was going to be _your_ replacement body! Shouldn't you know some of this stuff?" Vega cried.

"I was going to cross that bridge when I came to it."

"You're no help!" Vega shouted, feeling on the verge of tears. He was not the crying sort. Why did he suddenly feel like curling up into a ball and sobbing as if a beloved pet had just died? "You just don't care about my situation at all, and you aren't even _trying _to understand the ridiculous things I have to go through!"

Bison sighed. "Get a handle on the situation, clear your head. This is her body talking, not you."

Vega drew his brows together, and rolled onto his back. Was Bison right in that? Was it possible that Cammy's body was influencing his behaviour? It made enough sense. Her body would still be the same, after all. He dreaded the thought of becoming some emotional heap of tears in the bed all day long, and frowned. This was pretty pathetic. Women were used to dealing with this, but he wasn't, so it was more difficult for him to know what to expect. "How embarrassing," he muttered finally. But he was too irritated to apologize. "Hurry up and fix this!"

"It's a fairly high priority." Before Vega could argue any further, Bison was gone, and he groaned. The cat laying beside him looked up at the noise, and he turned to stare back at it.

"I don't suppose you know anything about menstruation?" he asked, feeling utterly defeated. The cat meowed once, waiting to be petted. He covered his face with his hands instead, and groaned again. Time could not move fast enough.


	4. Chapter 4

Plane rides were really, really boring. She didn't like reading-even when she looked over the books Vega had laying around in anticipation of the flight, she could have sworn she was made more drowsy by simply reading the titles. _On the Aesthetic Education of Man_? _The Nature of Art? _Aristotle and Immanuel Kant? She didn't suppose he had a Gameboy lying around either, and was left without any sort of entertainment to speak of. It was a few hours later that she found herself finally landing in her home country, making her feel a little better. She was greeted with the overcast, wetter weather she expected and had even grown to love. Although, she admitted, it could get old if it rained for too long. Maybe, after all, she was just romanticizing it due to her predicament.

They'd arranged to meet in public, so as to make the other party feel a bit safer. She wouldn't put it past him and Shadaloo to attempt to keep her detained until their problem was sorted out-and maybe, even beyond that. She shuddered at the thought of being turned back into a brainwashed drone, and vowed that if she was going down, she'd do irreparable damage to Vega's body before it was over. He, in turn, wondered if maybe she'd invite along some friends of her own-that Delta Red squad, or maybe even Chun-Li. But no such plans were held by either party, and so they met at the cafe not a few blocks from Cammy's home. She picked it-she knew she'd be starving given the lack of edible breakfast foods in Vega's home. She'd even picked up some candy on the way out of the airport just to tide herself over.

She was a bit startled to see herself from the outside like this. She didn't look different, of course, but it was still bizarre. How many people got this opportunity, to see how they looked through another's eyes? Her body was sitting at the table, looking bored, bordering on miserable, leaning into one hand and the other resting on the table, fingers drumming against the metallic surface. So she approached the table, took the seat, and Vega barely batted an eye. "_Hola, señorita..."_ she said, admittedly having fun with being able to speak Spanish. And his voice_ did _sound undeniably sexy. If she'd been into women, she could've gotten all kinds of girls with this body. "_Eres tan linda como una flor."_

_"Chupame la pija,_" he muttered back irritably. It took a second, but the brain she was using caught up to translating, and she blushed instantly, eyes widening a little. He'd just said, 'blow me'. She wasn't used to hearing that kind of language, and it definitely made her uncomfortable.

"Jeez, I was just joking," she whispered.

"It wasn't very funny," he responded. He eyed her critically, seeming concerned about something. She fidgeted with the bag of candy, nervous under such intense scrutiny, and the noise seemed to draw his attention. The bag was yanked from her hand quite suddenly and slammed to the table. "No! You do _not _put this junk into my body!"

"What's the matter with you?" she cried, trying to pull the little brown bag out from under his hands.

"This is _bad _for you, and I don't want it in my body! If you eat anymore junk food-!"

She cut him off: "How are you going to stop me?"

He crumpled the bag in frustration, knowing he couldn't exactly do anything about it. He knew she had a quick metabolism, so he couldn't threaten to fatten her up in return. Plus, sweets repulsed him, so it would've been just as much a punishment for himself as her. "I'll think of something," he muttered.

"I'm not going without good food for a month," she said with a shrug, and leaned back in the chair. "And I _looked _around your house this morning. That little mutant fruit was disgusting!"

He wrinkled his nose, trying to think of what she was referring to. She elaborated a bit, complaining about the weird texture, and he smirked, shaking his head. "That's a pomegranate. They're fantastic for making juice," he said with a slight laugh. He couldn't stand the way the fruit felt in his mouth either, and he wondered if her reaction to it was really just his own.

She blushed, but wasn't going to let him get to her like that. "Pretentious jerk, drink orange juice like the rest of the world!"

He rolled his eyes. A waitress made her way to the table, and asked for an order. Cammy hadn't needed to look at the menu to know what was good here. Vega asked for water, she asked for a soda. But then Vega shook his head, and said, "She-He'll have water, too."

"Soda tastes better," she said.

"He's _watching _his sugar intake." The waitress raised an eyebrow, unsure of who to take the order from.

"Aren't you too kind, looking out for me like that? But I think it'll be okay this time," she said, waving her hand at him. She glanced up at the waitress and winked, a little startled when the woman blushed and smiled. In her own body, the gesture would've been taken for some kind of platonic, amicable gesture, but when she looked like Vega, it was no doubt interpreted as flirtation. A double standard, maybe, but they were unavoidable. The woman was gone with the order-one water and one soda. Cammy smirked back at a furious Vega, delighted with her victory. Then she let her eyes wander as Vega started complaining again about the dietary guidelines she would have to follow while in his body. There were a lot of people here. Although, she realized, it was dinner time, but why did it feel like so many more customers than usual? And why was there a sudden upwelling of anxiety? She inhaled in an effort to calm herself down, finding it unreasonable. It became even more unreasonable as bizarre thoughts began to creep into her head-the people here were watching her, studying every move, judging every little thing she did, ready to strike out when the moment was right.

"Are you even listening to me?"

She shook her head, snapping out of the weird reverie. "I'm...I'm sorry. It's just...this place is so crowded," she whispered, glancing around. He raised his eyebrows, and she elaborated. "I'm having these thoughts-stupid ones-that these people are trying to harm me. I don't know what's the matter and-"

He frowned in response, looking down at the table. "Just ignore it."

"What?" she said. "You're _used _to this?"

He fidgeted with one of the utensils, straightening it up with the others.

"You know this isn't normal right?" she asked, glancing around. Was she being stared at? She could feel every pair of eyes on her until she turned to look towards them, and then, they weren't looking anymore.

"Just ignore it," he whispered again quickly before the waitress returned with their drinks.

Cammy sighed. "Great. I have to put up with mental instabilities, too."

He looked up at her, appearing hurt for the briefest of seconds, but the expression was quickly replaced with irritation. "And _I _have to deal with your...your..._thing._"

She balked at that, unable to imagine what he meant but knowing it had to be something fairly sensitive if he couldn't even name it. "What?" she asked, panicking a little. "What thing?"

"Your...monthly...thing," he muttered, glancing away.

"Oh my God." She groaned, burying her head in her arms on the table. "Why, why, why." She tried to look on the bright side-at least _she'd _be missing out on the experience. But the reality was horribly embarrassing. She inhaled deeply. She didn't need even more anxiety on top of this bizarre paranoia. She forced herself to sit back up, but it was almost impossible to look him in the face.

"It isn't any picnic for me," he said. "Do you know how long it took me to figure out what to _do _down there? Have you ever tried searching for something like that online?"

"Stop, stop, stop," she whispered, shaking her head frantically. People were staring again. She was sure of it. She glanced around quickly, and sighed, frustrated. No, they weren't. She was just crazy now. "It'll be over in a few days, but just...try not to...look, you know?"

He wrinkled his nose in disgust. "I would never in my life."

For some reason now, she felt offended. It wasn't that she _wanted_ him to look. But he should've wanted to. Not while she was on her cycle specifically, but in general. "What, am I ugly to you or something?" she said, irritated at the implication. So maybe she wasn't a supermodel or actress or whatever someone of his caliber's usual fair was. That didn't make her unattractive.

"What?" he asked, drawing his eyebrows together. "I never said that."

She sighed angrily. It was obvious he didn't get it, and she wasn't going to explain it to him. "Never mind, just shut up."

"But we're here to talk," he said. "To lay ground rules. Which you've already violated twice now-I don't consume excess sweets, and I don't eat anything fried." He was referring to the order she'd put in for fried fish.

"Look," she snapped, pointing a finger at him. "I'm already dealing with having my private bits on the outside and being a crazy murderer who the world thinks is this perfect little buttercup. I'm _not _giving up the only comfort I have through all of this."

"Food should not be a comfort, it's just a necessity," he said back through gritted teeth, frustrated with her refusal to cooperate.

"It's a comfort to me!" she cried. "And you know what, how is this for a ground rule-I saw your creepy little drawings of me, and I'm _not _flattered! So stop it!"

He raised an eyebrow, at first confused. Then, the realization dawned on him, and he shook his head slowly, eyes falling away from hers. "That isn't you," he said. "It's someone else."

She blinked. Really, she'd just used that as an excuse to yell at him, and now she felt embarrassed. "Well who is it? Because it looks just like me," she snapped, still trying to keep it up.

He frowned. "It doesn't matter," he said. "I'm asking you now, as politely as I can-_don't _eat a bunch of junk. Don't look through my things. Make sure to exercise. I don't care what sort of money you spend, but try not to attract attention."

She considered the rules he was laying distastefully. For a moment, she considered telling him to go stuff a sock in it, that she would do whatever she wanted, but then she thought, there were certain things she'd rather he not do, too. It'd be unfair to ask something of him and not do anything for him in return. And he was being fairly hospitable, with the offer of getting to spend his money, which was certainly surprising. "Fine," she said on exhaling. "But here's yours, okay? The cats get fed twice a day, once for breakfast, another for supper-they each have their own dish, by the way, and they know which ones belong to them. Give them even amounts, I love them all equally and don't want to make anyone jealous." He raised an eyebrow slowly, but she was too busy thinking to notice. "Ummm..." She trailed off, eyes headed skyward as she tried to remember what else was necessary. "I have a few weeks of vacation time saved up. I didn't have plans for it, so put in for time off anyway. I don't want you messing up my relationships with people. Be nice to my friends if they talk to you. And don't-_don't_-let that creep Bison anywhere near me or my home. I don't want him to know where I live."

"If he wanted to know, he already would," Vega said with a shrug.

"Still stands," she said. "And, well, I don't really have a whole lot of other rules. Just don't be a jerk to anyone. Don't do anything illegal while you're me. That sort of thing."

"As long as you do the same for me," he answered, crossing his arms. She smiled, happy that they could reach an agreement. Maybe it wouldn't be so awful after all. She wasn't hurting for money, but now she could loaf around all day doing nothing and still have cash to burn. Not that she planned on abusing this privilege, exactly, but if she just so happened to stumble across a good deal on some electronics...She shook her head for a second. No, she'd feel guilty about that, even if it _was _Vega's money, and he certainly wouldn't miss it. She was surprised enough that he was extending the offer at all.

"You know," she said, picking at her food as she spoke, "I probably don't want you looking through my memories either."

He drew his brows together. "I can do that?" he asked. She blushed. Now she'd just outed herself as having picked through his. Though it hadn't been much.

"Oh..um..yep, thought you knew," she replied, smiling and rubbing the back of her head. "Sorry."

"What did you do?" he asked in a low, dangerous voice.

"Nothing!" she said quickly. He looked ready to punch her in the throat. And she knew that her body wasn't exactly weak. "I just needed to know the password to your desktop to order plane tickets! And I use it to understand the Spanish I'm hearing, obviously, but I haven't exactly tried remembering private stuff, which is what I'm asking you to do for me." She left out the bit about the memory of his step-dad, too embarrassed to mention it. It was only one small thing, and she wouldn't let it happen again.

He seemed to relax a little, and sat back in the chair. "Fine. If you need to know something, I'd prefer you call me," he said. He knew that it was unlikely that she would accidentally think of some of his more private memories while trying to remember something mundane like a password, or how to get somewhere, but he didn't want to risk it. It was easy to start thinking in tangents.

"Ummm, if you want," she replied. He cringed. Her manner of speaking was unbearably feminine. It made him seem very strange, like he was mocking someone almost. He tried to think quickly if he had any upcoming interviews or other public appearances, and found it difficult to do so. He frowned at that. This morning, he could've remembered what he had planned, and even now, there was a feeling of something important. But he couldn't figure it out. Each time he tried to remember, the brain he used to do so was only dredging up Cammy's future plans, which worried him greatly. He'd need to speak with Bison about it. This time, he was sure, it was something related to the soul-swapping.

"Think for a second, and not too hard, but can you remember if I have anything important planned for the next few weeks?" he asked her.

She raised an eyebrow at him, as if to ask, 'can't you do it?' but obliged anyway. She thought on the matter, as he requested, and shook her head. "I'm thinking...there's an online interview that hasn't been finished yet, but it's sitting in the computer and just needs to be filled out. And..." Then she stopped, eyes going wide as she realized something. "Ahhh! The Fallas festival in Valencia!" She only knew what any of that was because of Vega's brain, and she shook her head frantically.

"That..." he said slowly, eyes also getting a little wide. "...is going to be a problem."

"I can't fight a bull!" she cried at him, shaking her head again. Her heart was racing at the mere thought of it, being alone in this arena with the huge, angry, _fast _and deadly animal, taunting it, dancing just out of reach of its piercing horns. She knew she couldn't do that, and she couldn't kill it, that much was certain. She'd be such a disappointment, and was everyone staring at her again? No, she was sure of it this time, she could hear them whispering, picking out her name-no, it was Vega's name and she looked around, breathing a little harder. "Why is everyone so interested in me now?" she whispered. "Why are they all talking about us?"

"Calm down!" he said, holding up a hand.

She covered her ears. Was everyone really talking this loudly? This was just unnecessary! "I have to get out of here," she breathed. Pay, pay first, then get into a room where no one else would be able to keep staring and talking and just be _left alone_. She drew the wallet out of her back pocket, and cried out, "I only have euros! You idiot!"

"Why is that my fault?" he said, already laying a few notes on the table. "Stop making a scene. Calm down, and follow me." He took her by the wrist, leading her out of the building without stopping to look back. She kept her head down, staring at the floor as she walked, trying not to glance around at the peering eyes and whispering mouths of the other patrons. This was overwhelming, why were all of these people being so mean, talking about her, judging her? Then they were outside, and already, she began to feel a little better. Vega let go of her, and she crossed her arms.

"This isn't fair," she whispered. She didn't want this. She liked her life, she wanted _that. _No paranoia, no bloated but fragile ego.

"Come on," he said, tugging on her sleeve. "Just come back to your home. Then go to sleep. When you wake up, you'll feel better."

She nodded, completely miserable. It wasn't a normal kind of miserable, either. After the high of the paranoiac panic attack, her-no, _his-_mind racing on overdrive, she was starting to feel drained. She was ready to bury her head under a pillow and never wake back up. The world was too awful to face. "How do you stand being around people so often with a problem like that?" she whispered.

He shrugged as they walked back towards Cammy's home. She sighed. Obviously he wasn't going to talk to her about it. He was always so convinced of how perfect he was, so she imagined he was terribly embarrassed to be found out for the basket case he was. Or maybe, he didn't think this was abnormal at all. That, she thought, was much scarier.

She was at least comforted by the thought that she'd be in her own bed soon, and her cats would be happy to see her. Or would they? She was someone new now. Either way, she'd be happy to see them. Within a few minutes, they'd made it back to her home. He looked over the keys for a second before she simply took them and unlocked the door for him. Why had it felt like it'd been so long since she'd done this? She was just here yesterday.

The place was clean. Way clean. She certainly hadn't left it like this. "You cleaned it?"

"I can't stand messes," he answered with a shrug. She was about to ask how he knew where everything went, but then realized he had her brain to tell him. The clothes were all in the laundry bin, the dirty dishes had been washed and put in their place in the cupboards, he'd even vacuumed.

"I didn't think you knew how to clean anything," she said, joking a little. "With the maid and all..."

"Why do it yourself if you can pay someone else?" he responded with a shrug. "I could clean, but it would take up too much time. I'd rather be doing something else."

She wasn't in the mood to argue. She supposed, at least, he was giving someone a job through his laziness. She leaned down and picked up one of her cats before heading into her room. It felt good just being here again. Her room was fairly the same as she left it, though the bed was made, and the dirty clothes in here were in their place, too. The trash that found its way in here was all gone. It did feel even better to come home to a clean house. She sat on the bed, putting her cat down, and petting her. She looked back up at Vega, who was standing at the door. "Thanks for doing all of that," she said with a smile. Maybe it felt strange to thank him for anything, but he had done her a favor, whether he meant to or not. He seemed embarrassed, almost startled, and shrugged it off.

Pulling back the blanket, she grabbed her pillow, and curled up in the bed. She closed her eyes for a brief second, and when she opened them again, he was gone from the room. She felt as content as she could right now. There was still a lingering feeling of anxiety, but it was much less acute now. This was as close to 'good' as things were going to be for awhile, it seemed. With a sigh, she closed her eyes, and did her best to sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

"Now I think there is a real problem."

"What is that?"

"I can't remember more recent things that I should be able to," he said. He glanced down at the cat rubbing against his leg, and nudged it away. What did it want that made it keep doing that? It was becoming pretty bothersome, considering he'd nearly tripped over the damned thing a few times now.

"Give me an example," Bison said.

"I tried to recall if I had any upcoming events to deal with in Spain," he replied, unconsciously twirling a braid around his finger. When he realised he was doing that, he wrinkled his nose and stopped. What was he, a little girl? Well, maybe she was, to an extent. Cammy had been 'activated' at the age of eighteen, but had only been conscious for a few years now. She could think and behave in a child-like manner sometimes as a result. She hadn't lived through her childhood, hadn't exactly 'grown up' yet. She had a lot to catch up on, and he could tell this frustrated her sometimes. "But I found myself unable to do so. I could only think of what Cammy had planned for the next few weeks or so." Not exactly anything exciting. Meeting some friends, and a whole lot of loafing around with the cats.

"Naturally," Bison said. "You're using a different brain now. You aren't going to be able to remember some of the things you would in your own body because you simply don't have access to them."

"How do I remember anything about me at all, then?" Vega asked. What a confusing mess all of this was.

"Some memories are integral parts of who you are. That integral part of you is what has been traded for Cammy's own. You have certain memories that will always stay with you, and they aren't just stored in your brain," Bison explained. "However, something like an upcoming plan isn't quite so special to you yet-there's not really much to remember, after all." It made a little more sense to him. He couldn't remember an event that hadn't happened yet. "But..."

Vega sighed. There was _always _a 'but'.

"If you notice any deterioration of more personal memories, notify me immediately. It's one thing to be unable to remember things you have planned for later, but if you start forgetting things like what your home looks like, or even something so mundane as a favourite food, it could be a more serious problem," Bison said.

"Like what?" Vega asked, planting a hand on his hip. Again, he cringed and stood up straight. He didn't feel right behaving like that.

"The body could be adapting to you," he said. "Readying itself for a permanent change."

"No, no, no. That isn't happening."

"It's only a possibility, not necessarily a certainty. A degree of short-term memory loss is to be expected, so try not to worry over it too much," Bison continued. "But as I said, keep an eye on what you can and can not remember." With that final warning in mind, the two finished the conversation. Vega tossed the phone at the couch, and dropped down beside it, staring up at the ceiling. How could this have happened? He'd been himself after the experiment. He'd thought it was a spectacular failure. Nothing had happened. The android body remained empty and lifeless, and he woke up with a bit of a headache, but that was about it. The more he thought about it, the more he realized he had felt strange in the following days. He'd felt like he was sick, but not in a physical way. It was difficult to articulate, but the closest he could come to describing it was as if he'd never really woken up from sleeping. And then, he did-in a completely different body. But why Cammy's? He glanced over at the mirror on the wall, and then frowned. He didn't like looking at her. She wasn't ugly, but...

The phone rang. He looked down at it, and read the screen. He wrinkled his nose, an almost automatic reaction to the name displayed there. Chun-Li. Cammy and Chun-Li were friends. He gripped the phone hard, clenching his jaw. Why was Cammy friends with that _creature? _And she refused to even talk to him? After all he'd done for her? He could have left her to die, but he saved her, violating a direct order in the process, and she still shunned him. But she was on friendly enough terms with the woman who caused him more of a headache than any other person in the world. He inhaled deeply. He could fix that, if he wanted to. The opportunity had presented itself quite cleanly to him, and he answered the phone.

"Hey, how's it going?" Chun-Li asked cheerfully on the other line.

"Horribly, since you've called..." he replied, ready to come up with some more insults, but he stopped himself. Chun-Li was Cammy's friend. And it made him furiously jealous. But she must've made Cammy happy to some extent. He frowned, and put a hand to his head. Cammy would be pretty upset with him if she lost one of her friends as a result of his behavior. "Just teasing, of course," he added quickly upon changing his mind. Now he regretted ever having picked up the phone-he had to really talk to her, and pretend to be friendly all the while.

"You have the strangest sense of humor sometimes," Chun-Li said with a bit of a laugh.

"I'm British," he responded half-heartedly.

Chun-Li laughed again. "Well, I just wanted to make sure that you'll still be able to pick me up from the airport tomorrow?"

He suppressed a groan, flicking through Cammy's thoughts in order to confirm these plans. And there it was. Chun-Li would be in England for a week. And Cammy had offered to let the woman stay with her. How delightful. "Of course," he said, unable to really force a cheerful disposition. He didn't want to be around this woman. Not without a sharp object to peel her skin off with.

"Is everything all right?" Chun-Li asked, concerned. He'd never heard that tone directed at him before. But then, it wasn't _really_. It was for Cammy. Because they were friends, and friends cared about each other.

He frowned. "I'm fine."

"Okay," Chun-Li said. "Well, if something's bothering you, you should let me know, okay?"

_Where should I begin?_ he thought, but said, "Of course, but I'm fine. See you tomorrow afternoon?"

"Yep, I'll be waiting for you!" They exchanged good-byes, and he hung up the phone, feeling completely irritated. It wasn't fair, he thought, that this woman was such a good friend to Cammy while he was something to be repulsed by and hated. With a groan, he buried his face in the pillow on the couch, lacing his fingers behind his head. Maybe it was time for some sleep.

* * *

Cammy awoke with a start. She put a hand to her head, eyes wide, staring around the room. Why was she in an unfamiliar place? This wasn't...

No. It was her home. _Her _home, not Vega's, not the mind she was currently manipulating. Not the mind wrought with worry over why it hadn't woken up in a familiar bed. Not the mind that had just served up one of the most horrific nightmares she'd ever had in her life. Something was chasing her-him, it was him in the dream. Hunting him down, and when it caught him, it wouldn't kill him. It would make sure he suffered first, suffered like he'd made so many people suffer. And relief wouldn't come with death-this thing would own his very soul. As with most nightmares, she began to wonder why she'd been so frightened while it was happening. Really, she never even caught a glimpse of what was chasing her. But she was lost and alone in some dark, crowded place, making her feel claustrophobic. All of her movements felt too slow, and her feet had felt made of lead. She sighed, rolling over onto her side and curling up into a ball.

After a few minutes of recuperation, she inhaled, and slid off the bed. After going to the bathroom and splashing water on her face to wake herself up-and still being quite startled at seeing Vega in the mirror-she headed out of her bedroom. He was on the couch, asleep. It was early in the morning, still, and she generally was not an early riser. But Vega was, apparently, and now she knew she'd never get back to sleep. She looked for some food in her kitchen, but realized her typical breakfast foods weren't going to make Vega very happy if she ate them. So she settled on toast and put a kettle on to boil. She wasn't terribly hungry anyway. She thought of organizing her things, getting all of the stuff which she'd never want Vega to go through and putting it all away somewhere. But, she knew that was senseless. He'd be able to know all of her hiding spots, and even if she thought up a new one, it wasn't likely to matter. She thought too much like herself. And besides, there wasn't a whole lot to hide anyway, and if he really wanted to know something, he could just use her mind to remember it.

She made her way over to her laptop on the coffee table. She usually sat with it on the couch, but that piece of furniture was currently in use. Glancing up at her own sleeping form, a bizarre sensation came to her. It wasn't just that it was surreal seeing herself through someone else's eyes. But there was a funny feeling-a warm feeling, a sort of yearning. And then she frowned. It was coming from Vega's brain. "Sick," she muttered. If there was anyone she'd never want to take an interest in her, it was him. But it seemed too late to change that. Turning her eyes back to the monitor, she tried to ignore those thoughts entirely.

She checked her e-mail every morning. She'd opened two different tabs, looking through both accounts but...why were all of the e-mails in the first account in Spanish? She made a noise as she realized she'd logged into Vega's accounts without even thinking about it. It was such an automatic thing-for both of them, apparently-that she hadn't even noticed she'd entered his information. She logged out of the first, but the second was more peculiar. There was a pop up announcing that she needed further authentication to access the server. Without having to think much about it, she entered the necessary user name and password.

This one looked sort of like a typical inbox. But there were no logos or names to identify the client. She glanced up at the address bar. She'd entered an IP address. Highlighting the numbers, she copied them, opened a new tab, and pasted it into a whois search. It returned information for some place in Mexico. Pressing her lips together, she searched the same address again. This time, it was somewhere in Sweden. She sighed a bit, then tabbed back over to the inbox. At the top left was his e-mail address. It was peculiar-just a string of numbers at another string of numbers. All of the addresses on the incoming e-mails had similar formats. It displayed the first few words of the messages in the inbox, and she glanced over them. Most began with 'commander', then various degrees of importance were declared. Biting her lip, she contemplated what to do with this information. Here was pretty solid evidence connecting Vega with Shadaloo, not to mention a wealth of information on various operations. All she had to do was start forwarding e-mails to herself, and then she'd have no problem getting him to a court, and may have even been able to halt some upcoming assassination or other insidious mission.

But then, her decision was made for her as Vega rolled over, rubbing his eyes and laying on his back. She quickly logged out of the account, cleared the browser's history, and went about logging into her own accounts this time. "Jesus!" she heard her own voice cry. It made her jump, and she looked up at Vega.

"What?" she asked.

He sighed irritably, then rubbed his eyes again. "Just...strange, waking up to the sight of myself."

"Really, I thought you'd be _overjoyed,_" she said, a little irritated. Why did he have to wake up just then? Just a few more minutes, and she would've had him, turned him into a fugitive, if not a prisoner.

He rolled his eyes, but switched topics. "How long have you been awake?"

"Not long," she answered with a shake of her head, keeping focused on her messages. Not a whole lot from actual people, but she did get something from Chun-Li. She began to smile, and at nearly the same instant, a strong wave of irritation and annoyance swept through her. She closed her eyes. Now why was she so upset at the sight of Chun-Li's message? Then, again, she understood it was Vega's brain that was bothered, not her own. She glanced up at Vega, who was pushing himself into a seated position. "Why do you hate Chun-Li so much?"

He seemed surprised by the question. "What's that got to do with anything?"

She shrugged. "Just wondered." She opened the message, and then nearly gagged, reminded of her plans for the week. "Oh my God, she's going to be staying here with me for a week! With _you_ me!" She tangled her fingers in her hair and whined.

"Stop," Vega said. "That's embarrassing, what you're doing."

She glared at him. "You'll kill her!"

He narrowed his eyes. "Would you miss her?"

"Of course I would!" she cried. "I can't let her stay with you, it'd be downright cruel!"

"Would you miss me, if she killed me?"

Cammy blinked, taken aback by the weird question. She made a face, furrowing her brows, her lips parting just slightly. "Why would I _ever _miss you?"

He seemed hurt, and looked down at his hands. "I suppose you wouldn't."

Cammy logged out of her account, ignoring him. "I have to figure out a way to tell her not to come over. We can't see each other at all this week." She sighed heavily. "This is incredibly inconvenient, you know. I wanted to spend some time with my friend, and you're ruining all of it."

"I'm very good at ruining things," he said.

"Oh ha ha," she said. "Why do you have to be so awful? Is it in your genetics? I don't get to see her that often, and when I finally do, I have to spend it in _your _body, thanks to you and your awful friends-except they aren't your friends, people like you don't have friends! Ugh!" She fell back onto the floor, staring up at the ceiling and not-so-silently fuming. "I hate this. I hate you, and Bison, and all of those other horrible people that continue to ruin my life."

Vega didn't respond, instead standing up and walking away. She turned her head to follow him, but he disappeared into the bathroom without saying another word. Again, she rolled her eyes. He probably hadn't even heard a word she just said. Probably too busy staring at himself or something. She sighed. How was she going to convince him to tell Chun-Li to leave her alone for the week? And how could she put it politely? She supposed she could tell her friend that she was very sick, but that would make Chun-Li even more inclined to come over. There were very few valid excuses, she supposed, for not seeing a friend at all for the entire length of their rare visit. But what else could she do to keep her friend safe? She bit her lip. How would Chun-Li react to her saying that she'd switched bodies with Vega? She'd never believe her. And why should she? It was one of the most outlandish things in the world!

Sitting up, she reached for her phone, and composed a message to confirm their meeting. Maybe something this bizarre was better to deal with in person.


	6. Chapter 6

Cammy couldn't help it. She was nervous, and couldn't stop fidgeting. Her fingers wouldn't stop drumming against the seat, save for the numerous moments in which she pulled the seat belt around, changed how she was sitting. She toyed with her hair, picked at her fingernails, did whatever she could to distract herself. Chun-Li was going to walk out of that airport with who she thought would be one of her friends. But it was really one of her most hated enemies. Cammy decided it would be better if she stayed in the car. Vega wouldn't attack the Chun-Li in a public place, after all. Well, she hoped, at least. She glanced out the window again, hoping that Vega was good at keeping his temper at least this one time. He did it well enough for tabloids and cameras, so why not here?

The minor annoyance present in the back of Vega's brain told her why. He really, really hated Chun-Li. Even with his mind at her disposal, she couldn't quite figure out why. He found her to be beautiful, but that was part of what made him so angry, which confused Cammy even further. She'd promised not to snoop, so she tried not to think too much into his motivations, lest she violate his privacy anymore than she needed to be him. But if he stepped over that line with her, then the gloves were off-she'd have a field day getting any question about him she wanted answered.

Her heart skipped a beat as she finally noticed Chun-Li chatting away with Vega-who, of course, at this point, she didn't know was Vega. He looked like he was doing his best to be patient, to not snap at her. But Cammy could tell he was pretty annoyed, nodding every once and a while, probably only half-listening to the other woman. Cammy sank down in her seat a bit. Chun-Li wasn't going to take this well. She just knew it. And why should she? It was pretty damned bizarre, after all. Inhaling deeply, she tried to keep as calm as possible. She would need to, in order to get this conversation to run smoothly. As they got closer, she could begin to discern their words. Chun-Li was finishing up her flight experience, and she heard her own voice reply, "Yes. Well, there's something sort of...odd I need to inform you of."

Chun-Li raised her eyebrows, and she could hear them putting her luggage into the trunk. "Is everything all right?"

"Not really," Vega responded dryly. Cammy bit her lip as she heard the car unlock. Things were about to get pretty intense, she was sure of it. Her stomach felt suddenly empty, her heart fluttered in her chest.

"What is it?" Chun-Li asked, voice full of concern which seemed to only make Vega more irritable. They both finally opened the doors and got into the vehicle. Cammy couldn't help but stare at her. Had she always been so gorgeous? How had she never noticed just how perfectly beautiful her friend was? She was brought out of her reverie when Chun-Li noticed someone was staring, drawing her brows together. She turned around to see who was in the back seat, and then screamed. Vega sighed, and leaned his head into his hand. Cammy also screamed, by accident, and then shook her head as Chun-Li tried to get out of the car, which Vega had to continuously lock to keep the surprised woman inside. "You! What's the plan this time, huh? What do you want?" she said, holding out her hands as if to defend herself from an impending attack.

But Cammy waved her hands, shaking her head frantically. "It's nothing like that, I promise! Please, calm down, it's me, Cammy!"

Chun-Li stared for a second. Then she gritted her teeth, and smacked her in the face. Cammy was taken aback, and blinked rapidly. That certainly stung. Before she could say anything, however, she saw Vega reach over and shove Chun-Li into the side of the car. "Hit me again, and I'll break your fingers," he said, voice edged with ice. Now it was Chun-Li's turn to be startled, and her eyes flicked back and forth between the two blonds. Who she thought was her friend, sitting right across from her in the driver's seat, stared intensely, lips pressed together and looking for all the world ready to murder her. And when she looked to the back seat, where who she thought was one of the men she hated most in the world sat, she saw an apologetic expression, brows turned up, frowning lips. This was all wrong. Cammy didn't get that look on her face, not towards her friends, even when she was irritated with them. And Vega most certainly never looked apologetic over anything. She parted her lips, unsure of what to say.

"I know it's strange," Cammy said, holding a hand up to her stinging cheek. "But I promise, it's all true."

Chun-Li turned her eyes back to Vega, who said, "You picked the wrong week to stay in London, _coneja._"

"Oh my God," she whispered, eyes wide as she stared at the body of her friend. Slowly, she turned back to face the body of her enemy. "Prove it," she said quietly. "Prove to me you know something that only Cammy could know."

"Okay," Cammy said, nodding. "Ummm..." She started toying with the end of her braid, and rolled her blue eyes skyward as she thought. Chun-Li stared. If he was acting, it was _incredibly _convincing. But she had to be certain, and the only way she could think of to verify these bizarre claims was the test she'd just pressed on them. "All right. This past Christmas, we went to stay in America and saw Ken and Guile for the holidays. Ken gave me the most _adorable_ stuffed kitty, and Guile got me those nice combat boots from the surplus store. And Ken gave you chopsticks for beginners as a gag gift-remember, with the rubber bands on them?" She laughed a little at the thought, and Chun-Li continued to stare.

"I _don't _talk that way," Vega griped from the front seat, putting a hand to his head. "Ugh, you're going to ruin my reputation. Everyone will think I'm on drugs."

"Won't you stop being an ass already?" she replied, kicking the back of his seat. "Who cares what I sound like when it's just us?"

"_I _do! You're embarrassing me!" he said.

Cammy rolled her eyes. "Get over yourself already. No one here cares." He withdrew, and said nothing else.

"How did this happen to you?" Chun-Li asked, turning to Cammy.

"I don't know, really," she responded with a shrug. "Some experiment or another within Shadaloo went wrong, and now I'm paying for it. For some reason."

"Wow," Chun-Li whispered. She reached out a finger, and poked Cammy's cheekbone. Cammy raised an eyebrow at that. "It's just so strange. You're really him." She drew her finger over the tan cheek, and Cammy felt herself becoming pretty irritated. She stuffed it down, though, knowing it was just Vega's brain going crazy at the sensation of being touched by Chun-Li. Just to spite him, Cammy took hold of Chun-Li's hands and pressed both to either side of her face.

"Yep!" she said cheerfully. "It's really weird, being a guy, believe me."

"Will _you stop!_" Vega said. "I don't want that _thing _putting its paws on my face!"

"You're unbelievably rude," Cammy said. "Remember, you promised you'd be nice to my friends-and Chun-Li is my friend, so..."

Vega sighed, turning it into a groan and shook his head. "Had I known _she_ would be here, I would never have made that promise."

"Too late," Cammy replied. She smirked back at Chun-Li. "If he doesn't do what I say, I can really easily screw up his life. Everyone would think I'm him."

"It's a stalemate, sweetheart," Vega said. "You screw mine up, I'll _ruin _yours."

"This doesn't seem like a great outcome for either of you," Chun-Li commented.

"It wouldn't be," Cammy answered with a nod. "So that's why Vega's going to be nice, right?" He didn't respond, so she shrugged. "I think that's as good as a response as any," she whispered to Chun-Li.

"How are you guys going to get this fixed?" Chun-Li asked.

"We have to wait for Bison to come up with something," Vega muttered. He didn't even want to _think _of the bastard right now-this was all his fault. His name alone was making him uncomfortable, giving him an uneasy feeling. He closed his eyes and sighed, beginning to feel as if he were part of some kind of game-like he was just a toy being played with. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, giving himself a reminder of where he was. It was silly, to think that way, and he realized with a frown that it was Cammy's mind giving him these bizarre feelings.

"Don't sound so cynical about it," Cammy said. "He's pretty smart, you know." Then she clamped a hand over her mouth, eyes going wide. Both Chun-Li and Vega glanced at her with a bit of confusion. "I can't believe I said that about him." She should hate the man with a fiery passion, yet now she felt a mild admiration for his intelligence and scientific creativity. These were Vega's feelings for him, not her own, and that was a bit of a comfort. It still made her feel strange, having said anything positive about him. She bit her lip, and then said, "I'm worried, sometimes, that your brain is taking over a bit too much."

"You have access to Vega's brain?" Chun-Li asked quickly. The potentials this unlocked were incredible, and now she was wishing Cammy had told her about all of this sooner.

But knowing the direction her friend was going, Cammy shook her head. "I do, but I promised not to dig around in it."

"But he's killed so many people, and we're capable of bringing forth any evidence we want against him!" Chun-Li cried, awestruck by Cammy's compliance with this disgusting excuse for a human being.

"You're forgetting," Vega said, "that Cammy has quite an unsavory past of her own. There are several assassinations which she can be linked to as well."

Cammy frowned, upset with the reminder. She leaned her head against the window. Even though she couldn't remember any of the specifics of her past, she knew a thing or two. She knew she'd been an assassin, created only to kill, and that she was successful in that. She couldn't remember the faces or even the names of the ones she'd murdered, but it still haunted her all the same. And Vega was right-if she were to turn in evidence against him, Shadaloo probably had a good amount of dirt on her still floating around.

Chun-Li sighed irritably, and glared at Vega. "Don't think we won't find a way to make this work in our favor," she threatened. "This is an opportunity that'll likely never present itself again, and we're going to take it."

"I eagerly await your move, then," he responded.

"Can we not talk about this anymore?" Cammy asked softly, staring at the floor.

Chun-Li frowned, but abated. She sat back in her seat, glancing out at the parking lot around them. They hadn't started moving yet. "That's fine. We can talk later," she replied with a nod. "But, what are the plans for this week? I don't guess we can still see each other."

Cammy felt even worse at that. "Not very much," she said. "I wanted to. But now that doesn't seem plausible. You shouldn't stay with him at my home, but you shouldn't stay with me in Spain, either. Our initial switch was very sudden-the switch back may come without warning, too. And I would hate for you to wake up in his home and..." She trailed off, shaking her head. Vega's mind was playing out the scenario for her in all its visceral horror. He'd find her asleep, unsuspecting, and then, his hand would find its way around her throat, a spray of blood, and she looked so much more beautiful like this...

She screwed her eyes shut and inhaled deeply. Why was she _turned on_ by this? "You're disgusting, Vega!" she growled, wanting to inflict pain on him but he was in her body right now, and it would be senseless to hurt herself.

"I haven't even done anything yet." he said, confused by the seemingly random insult.

"Just shut up," she snapped, confused and annoyed by everything going on in her brain-_his brain. _It was important that she remembered that these perverse thoughts and bloodlust were in his brain.

After a brief, but tense silence, Chun-Li cleared her throat. "I guess...maybe I should get going, then. I'll find somewhere to stay and, well, call me anytime you want, okay Cammy? You shouldn't have to be alone through this." Vega gripped the steering wheel tightly, clenching his jaw. Envy reared its ugly head. If he'd said any of that to Cammy, she'd laugh in his face. Or react with disgust. Again he was reminded that he repulsed her, and it infuriated him that Chun-Li didn't.

"Thanks," Cammy said with a nod. "I will." She wanted to hug her, but knew Vega would be quite angry about that. He was already glaring at Chun-Li, looking ready to beat her half to death. Chun-Li looked from Vega, who narrowed his eyes at her, then back to Cammy, who smiled a little. It was certainly strange, but this was reality, for now.


	7. Chapter 7

"It's already started." Vega said the words with the barest hint of a whine, amusing her. Hadn't he been saying he 'didn't whine'? Cammy looked up from her paper. She'd since learned that she could do the sorts of things that Vega could do, and at first, that hadn't sounded appealing at all. But then, she found herself doodling a cat out of boredom, looked down at the scrap of paper, and saw it was the best thing she'd ever drawn in her life. Now, she was drawing everything she could think of, delighting in each little scribble. She wasn't used to being able to do this, and it was exciting in a way, to have a new talent. It also helped to pass the time until her own flight back to Barcelona arrived.

"What's already started?" she asked, confused by his irritation. She hadn't said much to him since they drove back to her home. She slept for a little while more, feeling an awful headache when she woke up. He seemed to be passing the time reading. He proved this much to her by turning the laptop around towards her so she could see the screen. It was all in Spanish, but that wasn't an obstacle for her with this brain. There was a brief article, and a snapshot of the two of them eating lunch from the day before. Cammy frowned as she skimmed the article, which questioned who the woman sitting with Vega was. The little story wondered if she was his stuck out her tongue, unable to imagine anything worse than that. Sure, Vega looked good, but she'd never in her life want to date him. His personality-the one she knew better, that is-was just so awful that it pained her to think of herself as being in a relationship with him. She smirked, however, at the harsh comment the gossip rag had made about his clothes. These people needed better things to do with their lives, certainly, but it was sort of amusing to see Vega bent out of shape over it.

"You're ruining my reputation," he said with a shake of his head. "Learn how to dress like you know how color theory works."

She cringed. Did he realize how pretentious he sounded when he said things like that? "Whyyyy do you care so much?" she whined.

"And I don't whine, for the thousandth time!" She laughed out loud at that. He pressed a hand to the side of his head, eyes sliding closed as he sighed. "I'd greatly prefer it if you just didn't leave my house."

"That's unfair, and quite boring," she replied. Then, the memory of that dreaded festival loomed in the back of her mind, and she added, "Besides, I apparently have to go to Valencia, remember?"

"Shit." He fell back onto the couch.

"Can't I just...call in sick?" she asked hopefully.

He glared back at her, but then his eyes wandered. "I've thought of it. A lot of people have already paid to attend it, and do you know how much bad publicity I would draw were I to not show up?"

"Okay, but, uh, I don't know how to fight a bull," she said , waving her hands. "And even if I did, I don't think I could bring myself to kill one."

"You wouldn't be," he said. "I would. No one would ever know it was you, if you keep your mouth shut, anyway."

"But it would be on _my _conscience," she argued. "I don't know how you live with yourself, really. Whether it's a bull, or a person, it's all reprehensible."

He drew his brows together with what she thought may have been concern. The way he bit his lip confirmed that-she always did that when she was bothered by something. "Regardless of your views, I have to attend. You're agile enough-and in my body, you shouldn't have too much trouble avoiding being gored."

She swallowed hard. Gored? That was a rather strong word. It only put more fear into her. She put down her pen, no longer very interested in drawing. With this reminder, all she could think about was a ton-and-a-half of horns speeding at her, completely unpredictable in its fury and terror.

"Wait," Vega said suddenly, grabbing the paper from her and staring at it. It was probably the most detailed cat ever produced by his hands-mainly because he'd never really done more than doodled a cartoonish one out of boredom in a lecture when he was a teenager. Cats weren't exactly a subject he fancied, but Cammy was damn well near obsessed, and it didn't exactly surprise him that she'd produced a drawing of one with such detail and care. "If you can still manage to use me to draw this well, then you have all of my muscle-memory. My agility, my speed, my hand-eye coordination..."

She stared back at him. She didn't like the direction this was going. It only made her more nervous. "No," she whimpered, taking back the drawing and crumpling it up.

"All you have to do is tap into my brain to find the right reactions to the bull," he said, seeming to be a little more relieved.

"I'd rather not! I don't want to kill him! And he didn't do anything to me, so why have I got to...got to torture it like that!"

He blew a breath out through his lips, used to hearing this sort of thing by now. He wasn't one for addressing the issue. His stance must've been fairly obvious, given his profession. Sometimes it took all his willpower to not lash out at the more obnoxious activists who harassed him, though that didn't happen often to any matadors. But he did, unfortunately, have an image to uphold. As much as he'd like to insult and harm and mock people who seemed to think so little of him, he couldn't afford to risk any behavior that would alienate people. "I understand your apprehension," he said, channeling his socialite persona. He felt strange and displaced very often when he did this. It was as if he were watching some other man behave in such an intelligent and refined manner, patient and professional. "But I have to do this. It's unfortunate that you are me right now, but it simply must be done. Just allow my mind to do all of the work, and you will be clean of the kill."

She sighed, and buried her head in her arms. He frowned. He didn't like it when she was upset. But why should he care? After all, she certainly didn't care about him.

"Let me give you some advice," he said. He took one of the papers, and scribbled something out, a little frustrated to find that he could do no better than awful stick figures. His entire sense of perspective was gone, and forget foreshortening. A little irritated, he crumpled the paper and tried again. It was no better than the last, and he resigned to drawing like a child. He scrawled a bull in the centre of the paper, and drew out its line of sight. "A bull does not have binocular vision. It sees the world on either side of it, so as strange as this may seem to you, the most dangerous place to be is beside it. He can see you best here." He marked the areas on the sides of the bull's head. "Especially if you move. If you stay still, he may associate you with the background, and not even realize you are there. But here, right in front of him," he circled the conical area between the lines of sight, just in front of the bull's nose. "He can see nothing here. Tickle his nose, if you feel up for it. He'd never see your hand. Pass the _muleta _across his face from there. Then get the hell out of the way, in the most visually pleasing manner possible."

"You know a lot about bulls," she murmured.

"You wouldn't be a mechanic if you knew nothing about vehicles," he said, as if it were obvious. "It's just like fighting anything-the more you know about the opponent, the better your chances are of defeating him."

She began to feel a little more confident. Vega's mind didn't seem nervous about the bull at all. If anything, it was _the crowd _that scared him, which was utterly foreign to her. She didn't mind being the center of attention-though she didn't necessarily relish in it, either. But each crowd, for him, was simultaneously a threat and a joy. All that positive attention was tempered by his paranoia, leading to a pretty volatile inner conflict that was even making _her _feel a bit ill. Someone may recognize him one day as a member of Shadaloo, and could hide themselves among fans until they were ready to strike, and he'd never see them coming. The crowd also scrutinized and doled out judgement-they could think of him as a failure, a disappointment, and if he lost the crowd, what was he then? What was an entertainer without anyone to entertain? No one at all. Failure was never an option, he had to be perfect, _she _had to be perfect, this could be the end of all of it, one screw up, one flaw and it all-

She took in a sharp breath, trying to calm down. She couldn't wait to get out of this body.

"Not to frighten you further," he said, trying to look innocent. "But, the breed of bull you'll be fighting is a Miura."

"What's that mean?" she asked. She could've looked it up in his mind, but he asked her not to look around.

"It's a breed of bull notorious for the number of deaths it has caused in the _corrida_," he responded. "Just don't turn your back on it? My back. I don't want a horn put through it."

"Oh my God," she whined, burying her head in her arms again and entangling her fingers in her hair.

It took some convincing, but he finally managed to get her to agree. He was certain, given the case with the drawings, that she could do this if she relied on his mind for everything. He'd done this often enough to have a routine of sorts memorized. Not completely, of course-he had to keep people entertained, after all. But it was routine enough for everything to be done on memory alone. And she was a skilled fighter. It could, probably, translate well enough to the bullfight. She just had to keep calm, and let him do most of the work.

And then it was time for Cammy to get back to the airport. She didn't want to. Being at home made her feel better, but she wasn't allowed to stay. He didn't want rumors going around about the two of them, which perturbed her. She didn't care if people thought they were seeing each other-she knew they weren't. But he seemed nearly disturbed by the idea, which made her more than a little irritated. "Do you think I'm ugly or something?" she asked. And he stared at her, confused at her anger. Men were idiots, even when they were inhabiting women's bodies, she thought.

She pouted a little in the car, leaning against the window and staring out at the familiar places going by. The silence was tense and awkward, and apparently it got to Vega, because he reached over for her music player and put it on. He couldn't be bothered to look through it-he didn't want it on for the music, but just as a way to fill the silence. It made her feel a little better, too. Something that was hers, that she liked, to remind her she was a person."You really like this?" he asked, glancing over at her.

"What, not pretentious enough for you?" she said, still irritated with him. She couldn't imagine what someone who read Aristotle as a _pastime _listened to. Probably nothing but ridiculously ostentatious classical music or...

"_No_," he responded through gritted teeth. "I enjoy this myself."

She looked up at him. "You're joking?" What a coincidence that was. She didn't know the obscurity or prominence of the music, so maybe it wasn't that strange after all. She snatched up the player, skipped to the next song, and set it down again. Completely different artist. That would make her feel a bit better. He definitely wasn't going to know this one, so she could still enjoy it.

He laughed, but it wasn't a happy laugh. Ironic and resigned. "That, too," he said. He glanced down at the music player. Scrolling through the artists, he would've thought he was looking at his own, save for a few odds and ends. "Interesting," he said before he set it back down.

"This is bizarre." She listened to the music again. Two coincidences in a row. Or maybe he was pulling her leg. She became even more irritated with him for that, and snapped, "You're mocking me, aren't you?"

"Look for yourself," he replied, now irritated himself. How dare she accuse him of that? "I give you my permission."

So she did, making his brain think of the music and then-

_Tapping fingers against the steering wheel, but I stop. I know it drives Bison mad, even though he's absorbed in something on his phone, that thing is attached to his hands anymore, I think, but I'll turn the music on to distract myself. It's vaguely summery, it fits the bright heat of the Thai afternoon, and wait, Killer Bee seems focused on something now, she stares at the speakers, I ask her what's the matter-I mean, "Status report?"_

_"There is a foreign noise, Commander Vega."_

_"It's music," I say._

_"What is music?"_

_"Art that is for your ears," I say, unsure precisely how to explain something like this. She's completely without any knowledge of culture. Bison wants it that way, for all of the Dolls. She has to stay away from things that may incite self-awareness, or evoke memories of home in the case of the others, who had homes before this one, and perhaps that is a little unfair, but I don't have a say. I want her to know so badly about the beautiful things in the world, because while a death is beautiful in its own way and she is well-versed in death, she can't know that because the idea of beauty doesn't exist in her mind, even in spite of her own beauty, and how ironic is that, after all?_

_"I am experiencing interference-my processor is no longer idling."_

_I hate that she refers to her mind as a processor, further evidence that she is not quite a person. She means she is experiencing an anomalous sensation-it is not related to temperature, to illness or physical injury, sight, sound, smell, taste, touch, it is beyond sensory input, it is emotion, I'm certain. Bison snaps himself out of his reverie and demands a status report._

_"I am uncertain of my status," she replies, and I want to tell her she is feeling something. There is not a word she has on file because emotions are not part of the programming. She continues to stare at the speaker, and I wonder if she likes the music or hates it._

_"Turn that off, now, Vega," Bison orders. I oblige, it would be dumb of me to argue with him, he could kill me with a thought if he wanted. "I shouldn't have to remind you-she can not be exposed to this sort of thing. Let this be the last time I have to warn you about that."_

_"Of course," I reply, but it wouldn't be, everyone has a right to see the beauty in life, in sound, in art, in everything, so I take her occasionally, under the guise of specialized training. Drive her out into the winding dirt roads, different music each time, show her the works of famous artists in books picked up in Bangkok, read her poetry, English, Spanish, Japanese, doesn't matter. Ask her for her status, closer and closer, inching towards the grasping of the word 'emotion', of an understanding of 'beauty' or 'art', she could almost understand, she was so close, just push her a little further, tell me what to do to give this to her and I'll do it, I want her to be happy, she's all I have left, I want her to be happy-_

"What-" she breathed, grabbing her head.

"Right," he said, completely oblivious to what she'd just seen. "See? I do listen to these things."

"You showed it to me," she whispered, turning to stare at him, awestruck at the memory-his memory-she'd just experienced. Nothing like the one with his step-dad. There was hope here that wasn't there before, but why was she the source of it?

He seemed startled. "What did you-"

"You showed this music to me!" she cried, now feeling overwhelmed and confused. "This, so much of it, I learned it from you!" The memory was fleeting, and she was too frightened to try to experience it again for what she might dredge up instead. She shook her head, and he stared. She looked up at him, drawing her brows together, eyes hardening. "Why are you so fixated by me?"

He seemed hesitant. He didn't want to respond. She seemed so upset, he thought that telling her would just worsen the situation.

"Answer me!" she nearly screamed. His voice was terrifying when he was angry, no more sarcasm or pretension, no sardonic humor, no fake humility in some attempt at charm. Just pure anger, and she could see by the look on his face that he was a little frightened, too. It wasn't that he'd never been that angry before-he had. But knowing he'd driven Cammy to that level of irritation was startling. Then there was the fact that her body was reacting to being in this risky situation. He didn't want to be in such a confined space with that maniac, that murderer. Killer for hire scum. Anything for a dollar, manipulative bastard, how could he pretend to care when he'd helped ruin her life?!

"I don't...It's..." He shook his head, helpless, thoughts so disorganized. How could he answer this question? He claimed to care about her. So why did he teach her to kill? Again, he shook his head, unable to follow one train of thought far enough to produce a coherent explanation.

Groaning, Cammy grabbed her head. again "I could find out for myself, but I'm almost too frightened to do it!" He wanted her to be happy? She shuddered, wondering what else he thought of her, what other sick fantasies he might have concerning her. It disgusted her, to be so interesting to someone as deranged as Vega.

He gripped the steering wheel tightly. "I'd ask that you didn't, but I suppose, in the end, I can't stop you," he said. "I could retaliate, look through your mind, but what embarrassing things, what awful secrets could you possibly have that I don't already know from who you were before?"

"You shut your god damned _mouth!_" She grabbed him by the arm, had an urge to hurt someone, to lash out, because _she _was being hurt, and it scared her and-

She gasped, withdrawing her hand and covering her mouth. It was him again. She was acting too much like him. She shook her head, wanting to cry, but he didn't cry so easily, and it was one of the most frustrating things she'd ever experienced in her life. "I'm becoming too much like you," she whispered, eyes wide and directed out the window. She couldn't look over there. At him, at herself.

He frowned, keeping his eyes on the road. "I know." He felt Cammy's own hatred of him welling up, and he wanted to give up. She simply despised him too much. That was plain, now. She hated him for training her to kill. Hated him for all the people he had killed. Hated him for his loyalty to Bison, who'd created her to be a puppet, a killing machine, a murderer. Hated him for his deceitful nature, wanted so badly to expose him, to show the world that he was a giant fake, to show them all what he was really like. He felt tears stinging his eyes. Was it really so hopeless? She was the last person he wanted to hate him. He'd never felt this worthless before, and it infuriated and depressed him all at once.

Cammy's anger subsided as they approached the airport. He felt a vague sense of relief at the fact that this repulsive monster was leaving. Her mind seemed to hope never to see him again, and it hurt more than anything to know she felt that way about him. She looked over at him, hatred in her eyes. "I can't wait until this is over," she said. "I don't know how much longer I can stand being _you_." He didn't reply-what could he say, in his own defense? From here, his crimes were clear. But in there, he could grasp at some pathetic justification, judgement clouded by his own unfortunately imbalanced neurochemistry. From here, from her less flawed mind, he could see everything he'd done wrong, everything that made her and those like her hate him. And for the first time in a long time, he prayed for someone other than himself-_Please, don't let her turn into me.__  
_


	8. Chapter 8

How she hadn't thought of it earlier was something that would bother her for days to come. Bison wasn't the only one who was deeply entrenched in the supernatural. She had her own friends and resources, and she was damned if she wasn't going to try to get out of this body any way that she could. Especially before this awful bullfight. She thought it might be a sign of good fortune that a seat opened up on a flight to Italy at the last second. She didn't care about the cost-Vega wouldn't miss the money, and he'd told her she could use it.

She inhaled deeply as she approached the old, small home in the countryside. The cab driver that took her out here seemed a little mystified as to why she wanted to be taken all the way out into the middle of nowhere like this. In that process, Cammy delighted in speaking perfect, fluent Italian with the man. It was one of the more interesting things about inhabiting this body-Vega knew a few different languages, and she could use them through him with relative ease. It left her to wonder how somebody learned so much. He was, she hated to admit, a pretty smart person. Maybe he'd never solve some big paradox or make a new element or anything, but she couldn't say he _wasn't _intelligent. And of course he was. He probably thought any lapse in knowledge was some glaring flaw that needed dealing with.

As she walked up to the little home, with its numerous potted plants, small vegetable garden, gently tinkling wind chimes, a bird bath, she felt decidedly nervous. Rose intimidated her. No, outright _scared _her. How horrible it felt, to be so exposed to another person. Deepest fears laid out to her like a holiday meal. But...no, that wasn't it. Rose was her friend. But the woman did intimidate Vega, and she supposed that was where the anxiety came from. She wasn't going to have any of that, however. After her problem in the car with Vega before they parted, she decided she needed to work harder at keeping herself in control. She couldn't keep letting Vega's brain get the better of her. This would be a wonderful way to practice that task. Inhaling deeply, she forced herself to try to feel calmer. Rose wouldn't hurt her. Not if she could quickly explain and subsequently convince the woman that she was really Cammy.

With another deep breath, Cammy rapped on the door softly. Within a few seconds, it was opened, and there stood Rose. She stepped aside, allowing her guest to enter. "Hello, Cammy," she said, closing the door behind her.

"Hi. I know it may seem strange, but-" She stopped midsentence, then spun around to face the woman who was locking the door. "Wait a minute. How did you know it was me?" Before Cammy had even had a chance to explain anything, Rose had greeted her by name, in spite of seeing Vega on her doorstep. She hadn't seemed surprised at all, which left Cammy a little flustered and confused. At least it was one less thing for her to explain.

Rose smiled gently. "Your aura is much less intense than Vega's. Kinder, less chaotic."

"Even though I'm in his body?" Cammy asked.

"An aura is a signature of the soul, not the corporeal form," Rose said. She nodded to the table. "Sit. I'm sure you have a lot you want to say."

"Well, you already know about a lot of it, it seems," Cammy said, obeying the older woman and taking a seat. There was already a glass of tea and a small pastry on the table waiting for her, and Cammy smiled. There was nothing this woman didn't know. But then she frowned, remembering she wouldn't be able to consume it. That made her feel a bit guilty. "I'm sorry. I can't have this." She pushed the plate forward.

"Why is that?" Rose asked, appearing amused.

"I promised Vega I wouldn't eat sugar. Apparently he's some sort of health nut," she muttered. And she really could've gone for this snack, too.

"That's kind of you, to obey his requests." Rose took a seat beside her.

"I'm only doing it so he'll obey mine," Cammy said. "It isn't all that kind."

"I think he would still listen to your demands, even if you violated his," Rose said. "He wouldn't see you upset. You should feel lucky-you may be one of the only people in the world he feels that way about."

Cammy frowned, and crossed her arms over her chest. She sank lower in her chair, imagined Vega sighing angrily and shouting at her about him having better posture or something like that. "What is that nutter's absolute obsession with me? Why can't a _nice _boy like me so much?"

Rose laughed softly, and shook her head. "He isn't in love with you, Cammy."

That was a relief. If Rose said it, she knew she could trust the statement to be a fact. But there was still the unanswered question of why he cared about her at all. As Rose had just pointed out, Vega wasn't exactly concerned with the welfare of anyone but himself. He apparently held some degree of respect for Bison, and in that manner, he was eager to please the man, but this was the only example Cammy could think of that even came close to being described as consideration for the feelings of another. Other than, of course, all of the pretending he did as a matador. "Then what's his deal?" she asked.

"I don't think it's my place to tell you," Rose said. "Ask him."

"I did," she said, a little peeved. One thing that bugged her about Rose was how vague she could be sometimes. She often hinted at things, or spoke about them in roundabout ways that left her feeling confused and frustrated. She didn't want to have to decipher conversations after having them, even if they were always helpful in the end. "But he didn't give me an answer."

"Did you give him time?"

Cammy stopped to think. He'd seemed at a loss for words when she demanded that he tell her. But she hadn't really given him much time to formulate a proper response, snapping at him out of irritation instead. She frowned. "Maybe I didn't. But you can see why, right? He's so...awful. I can't stand him."

"He is a difficult person," Rose said with a nod. Difficult was an understatement.

Cammy pressed her lips together, eyes flicking down to her hands before returning to Rose. It took a lot to make Vega's body look her in the eye. "Do you know how to fix it? Please tell me you do!"

Rose sighed, and the reaction did not inspire a lot of confidence in the girl. "I can't fix this, no." Cammy whimpered, letting her head drop into her arms. "But rest assured, it will be fixed, sooner than you think. You must be patient."

"Do you know what he's making me do?" she whispered, shaking her head. "I have to fight a bull!"

"Why is that?"

"Because he's a jerk, and is top billing at this festival in Spain, and all of these people will be there, and I'm so nervous!" she blurted, her voice a bit muffled. "I don't know what to do! I'll feel awful if I kill the poor thing, it'll haunt me forever."

"It would die, whether you are the one to deliver the final blow or not. It is rare for a bull to come away from such savagery alive," Rose responded, hoping to assuage the Cammy's guilt. It would only help a little.

"Maybe...I just want to refuse. Really, what I'd _love _is to find the mask and claw, and go to the stupid thing dressed in the Shadaloo uniform and everything, out him in front of his fans, and the whole world would know what an awful person he was," she said. She could see it in her head-the rest of the cuadrilla wondering where the torero was, and then out he strolls in the black and deep red of the commander's uniform, mask on his face and claw at his wrist. People would wonder if itnwas some sort of joke, maybe, but quickly they would realize something was wrong. Then, maybe she would wrack his brain and confess to the murder of every individual she could dredge up. But she frowned, ultimately knowing this couldn't happen. He never kept weapons in his home, nor the Shadaloo uniform, and the mask alone wasn't enough to impress anyone. Beyond all that, she didn't want to spend the time in jail. If Bison was desperate enough for cover, he may yet kill her while she was still in Vega's body, leaving her own form to remain inhabited by Vega. She sighed. "But that won't work. Why did this have to happen to me?"

"There are no accidents in this life, Cammy. Everything happens for a reason."

"Well, what's the reason for this?" she asked, a little irritated with the typical response. How could there possibly be a good reason for this? It was just Bison toying with lives again. Sure, maybe this particular swap hadn't been intentional. But he was still playing god. Was this supposed to be a lesson for him? How would this teach _him _anything when she was the one suffering?

"One can only know what they've learned after everything is over," Rose said simply, rising from her seat and taking the pastry away. Cammy watched mournfully. If she'd known the other morning would be her last time eating sweets, she would've gotten more than some mediocre candy.

"You said it would be over sooner than I thought," Cammy said, tilting her head. "Do you know when it's going to be fixed?"

"Not before the festival, if that's what you're after." Cammy sighed, and buried her head in her arms at the answer. "But it will not take so long as you've been told."

"That's a small relief," she muttered. Only _very _small. She heard Rose sit down again, and felt soft fingers working through her hair. Vega's brain was torn between attempting to snap the woman's wrist for touching him, and indulging in this matronly show of affection. A strange feeling came over her as his brain decided, with a bit of her help, to calm down a little. He was pretending it was someone else's fingers in his hair-his mom's. She frowned, sorrow overcoming her, and she wanted to cry, but again, it was difficult to get him to cry. This left her feeling even more upset. There was no catharsis, and the emotions simply piled up on top of each other. She thought of his mother. She couldn't help it, because his brain was already there. And, maybe, she could've turned it to some other thought, but she was too sad now to be bothered with the effort. Why did she have to die? Why did he have to be left here all alone, confused, angry? _I just wanted things to be okay again, I didn't want him to hurt us anymore, but I screwed up, I'll never get you back, I'm so pathetic and useless, I couldn't even protect you-_

Cammy uttered a small moan and squeezed her eyes shut. "This is torture," she whimpered. "I hear his thoughts, feel how he feels, act like he acts! I don't want this!"

"Be patient," Rose said, withdrawing her hand, but Cammy reached out for it again. He all at once craved and abhorred human contact, and she could see how that would make anyone miserable, but _she _needed it. She needed somebody to tell her it would be okay in the end, that things would go back to normal. Rose understood that, and resumed stroking the blond head on the table.

_I'm at my wit's end and I can't stop thinking about her dying-four years, to this day, four years that I got to live and she died when he really hated _me_ and why did he kill her? He spoke of disrespect, there could not be a person on this planet who disrespected him more than I but he killed _her _and I just want her back, I want things to fix themselves, I want-_

_"Commander Vega."_

_Stand at attention to acknowledge the salute, I'm tired, I want to be asleep, why is she coming here to torture me? She continues: "It was requested that I deliver to you today's report on our progress." The Dolls, these stupid things, he makes me watch them, babysit them, teach them, they're barely human, shells of themselves, empty, waiting to be filled on the countless ways to kill a man and I just don't want to do it anymore, what's the point? "You appear distressed, Commander. Do you require medical assistance?"_

_I want to scream because she can't understand, I _am _distressed! Tear my hair out, rip my eyes out, cut my throat, distressed! She couldn't even begin to imagine, in the most literal sense, because she can't imagine! It isn't part of the programming! I drop to the bed, and sigh, and wave her to my side. She complies. Does she want to? No, she has to. Obey any order that does not hinder the progress of achieving an assigned goal, or does not inflict harm upon yourself. She sits beside me. I glance at her, she's staring straight ahead at the wall, waiting for further instruction._

_And before I can contemplate what I'm doing, I lay my head in her lap, put her hand in my hair. She continues to sit and stare. I make her hand move, make her fingers rake through my hair. And she sits and stares. She doesn't understand what this means. It isn't part of the programming and I want to scream until my voice stops working, and I sit up again, order her to leave and she complies without a care because caring isn't part of the programming._

_It isn't part of mine anymore, either._

"I want to go home," Cammy muttered into her sleeve. She wanted her mother. Missed her so much it hurt. Why did he have to kill her? How had she done something so wrong that she deserved that sort of punishment? Her mother was beautiful and perfect, and that stupid pig ruined everything. Or had she done it? Pissed him off so badly he decided to take it out on the thing she cared about most instead?

She pushed away from the table, sitting up quickly, startling Rose. She drew quick, shallow breaths, looking down at her hands. "Not my mother," she whispered, shaking her head. "I don't have a mother." These weren't her hands? Why could she control them, flex them, curl them into fists? Whose hands were these if not her own? "Rose." Her voice was trembling. Why was she so frightened? Her eyes widened slightly as she focused on the woman whose face was drawn with concern for her friend. "Rose, who am I?"

"Cammy. Remember?"

Cammy, that was her name. She was Cammy White, living in England, working with Delta Red in an effort to assassinate those individuals who stood in the way of Shadaloo's ultimate objective of General Bison's rule, with a day time job as an esteemed matador. "Wait, no!" she cried, standing up now, shaking her head. "I'm not a matador, I'm not an assassin!"

"No, you aren't. That's Vega," Rose said. This was not at all a good sign. She knew Cammy sometimes had trouble with her past identity, her lack of memories. Rose was always more than willing to help her friend get through those rough patches, but this was different. Cammy was apparently struggling with Vega's identity, now. "Vega is the matador, the Shadaloo Commander. You aren't like that at all, Cammy. You're a kind, warm person, a good friend."

Closing her eyes, Cammy fell back to her seat. "Right," she breathed. "I'm Cammy." It took her a few more nerve-wracking seconds to realize the full implication of such a statement. She was Cammy White. It was important, now more than ever, that she remembered that.

* * *

"How much longer is this going to be?" Vega asked, rolling onto his side. He let go of the phone, balancing it on his cheek. He wasn't sure why. He didn't have anything better to do with that hand.

"The more you bother me about it, the longer it will take," Bison said.

Rolling now onto his back, Vega took hold of the phone again and groaned loudly. "Haven't you figured out anything more?"

"Very little. There is a lot more to be concerned about right now than just your unfortunate circumstances."

Vega frowned. That hurt a bit, to just be brushed aside so casually. "Don't you care at all?"

"I don't have time for this," Bison said.

Couldn't he at least pretend a little? This was certainly unfair. It was like he didn't even matter, and something more important had taken his place. Jealousy welled up, and he felt like eating something. Anything, particularly something sweet would do well. He started to wonder how, exactly, that would help anything. But the reasons didn't matter. It would've just been nice to have something good to cheer him up after a comment as harsh as Bison's. "Well fine! Maybe I don't want to talk to you again until you fix things anyway!"

Bison snorted. "That would lead to increased productivity on my end."

Vega blinked. Why wasn't the man hurt by being shunned? Why wasn't he apologizing and reassuring him he still mattered as a person? Time to change tactics. "Or maybe I'll just run off somewhere, so that you'll never find me again?"

"I don't know why that would necessarily bother me at this juncture," Bison said. He sounded distracted, and that just made Vega angrier. Like even paying attention to a phone call wasn't worth his time.

"Fine! Maybe I should jump off a bridge or something then if I'm so worthless!"

"What in God's name is wrong with you? You're behaving like a child."

"It's childish of me to want to hear that somebody cares about me enough to want me around again?" Vega pressed his lips together. Why was he even bothering with this jackass? He obviously didn't understand how he was feeling, wasn't even trying! He was worth caring about, he was sure of it, so why didn't anyone express it? Why did he have to wonder all the time what his value was as a person?

Bison sighed. "I see. Perhaps you should take a second and remember that those aren't your thoughts. They're Killer Bee's."

Blinking rapidly, Vega shook his head. "No," he said. "Because why would..." He stopped midsentence. Why would he what? Why would he want so badly for someone to care about him? Why would _he _want so badly for Bison to care about him? Cammy's brain _was _jealous, but in part, so was he. What else was Bison working on? Would he forget about his predicament? He thought he was important enough to be the priority here, but Bison seemed to disagree. Cammy's mind augmented these fears, having a sympathetic response and dredging up an even more intense envy, and her mind came with a bit less self-control. He seemed to blurt out any thought he had.

He frowned. She wanted something, thought she was missing something in her life. The male figure she recognized as an authority in this conversation-Bison. It hit him all at once-she wanted a father, a mother, someone to look up to, to know she wasn't so alone in the world. She hadn't ever really known any kind of familial relationships, having been created and put through an accelerated growth process. She wanted someone to care for her, to love her in a way that only a family member could. And it made her upset that Bison-who her brain only slightly saw as a potential father figure due to Vega's own amicable relationship with the man-was more concerned with something else than her own welfare. He sighed, and shook his head at the thoughts. "You made me want to eat a pint of ice cream."

"How terrible of me," Bison said, bored of this conversation. Vega was not at all good with 'control'. He needed to find a way to keep Killer Bee's emotions stuffed away somewhere instead of spouting it all out and being such a nuisance.

"Fiiiine," Vega whined, then bit his tongue. Had he really just done that? Why did he keep whining all the time? "I apologize for my behavior."

"Fantastic. Now, for future reference, _I_ will call _you _when I have made progress on your case." His 'case'. Vega frowned, letting his hand fall back to the bed. He'd ended up a number. Again. Just another faceless nothing lost in a long string of numbers. Not a thing worth caring about, not even human. What was he worth, then? How could he know he mattered? _I'm a person, I know I'm a person, not a thing, not a drone, not a robot, God, God, I don't want to think about this, it's so hard, so hard to find a purpose and know that I matter. Got to stay professional, got to persist, can't let anybody notice. I don't want to look so childish, like a lost little kid, but it's what I am! Why can't I tell that to anybody, that I'm so confused and alone?! Well, what would it matter to them, that's why. I'm an adult, supposed to be an adult, so I'll act like one! Do my job. Get back at Bison and Shadaloo. I'll take them down, make them pay for what they've done to me, to the others-I won't ever call them Dolls, none of us are toys and we never will be again. They're like me, they sort of know what its like, we've all been slaves to him, we..._

_We're like sisters. They can be my sisters. I'll help them, like a big sister helps a younger sibling. And I'll have a family. That's what I'll do. I'll make a family._

He took in a deep, slow breath through his nose and tried to clear his head. The slightest whiff of an old memory tore its way to the front of his mind. Cammy worrying, despairing quietly. Unwilling to let anybody else in on her turmoil for fear of what they might think of her. It was only then he realized how profoundly difficult it must've been for her, to be so alone in her new life. To try to be an adult when you simply weren't ready for it yet. Why had he left her to go through that by herself? It disheartened him to see just how troubled her mind could be at times like this. He felt its anxiety, wondering who she was and what she meant. He wanted to tell her, but would refrain. It could only make matters worse.


	9. Chapter 9

That horrible, awful festival was drawing closer and closer. Just a few days now, a few piddly little days, and she'd be up against one of the most horrific things she'd ever been asked to experience. The most horrific that she'd be able to remember, at any rate. Vega wasn't nervous, but she was. So she clung to that nervousness, as unfortunate as it was, to remind herself that she was someone different than him. Her responses to this situation weren't at all like his. She needed to keep it that way. The tickets to Valencia had been purchased a while ago. They were sitting beside his computer. He kept important things like that with the computer because he checked it nearly every day-he'd never forget where they were. She hadn't meant to know that, but sometimes thoughts simply float up out of one's mind without prodding.

She did go to the computer again. She checked her e-mail. Nothing new or interesting. She attempted to check Vega's Shadaloo account again, but this time when she entered the IP address and was met with the pop-up which declared her lack of authorization, there was no space for her to enter any account information. No way to get back in. She sighed, a little irritated. Obviously Bison had realized that she could access this information, and didn't want her getting to it. If only she'd just started copying e-mails the first time she logged into this account. Now she'd never have the chance. She navigated away to other sites she checked on a regular basis. She kept trying to read an article about a new gadget, but her eyes just sort of slid over the page. Squeezing her eyes shut, she opened them again, focusing on each word as she read it, all the while, Vega's brain practically screaming, _This is boring, this is boring, I don't care, this is boring_. "Fine!" she cried, falling back momentarily on the couch. She'd have to wait to learn anything more, it simply wasn't worth that squirmy feeling to read about a product she'd probably never buy anyway.

So what did Vega do in his spare time? She laughed a bit at the thought of him updating a Facebook or Twitter account. Something so mundane and trivial and normal. What would he even write? Curious now, she went to Facebook, and carefully thought about his e-mail address and password, but his brain was drawing a blank. As self-involved as he could be, he didn't want to keep up with something like this. It made him nervous, to think he was that accessible to the general public. He liked their attention, but he wanted it on his terms. He really had a thing about privacy, but she supposed when you moonlighted as a serial killer, it was practically a requirement. So she logged into her own instead, and searched his name. There was a fan page for him. Go figure. Lots of girls declaring how attractive he was, a few guys saying how skilled he was, and a few complaining about how many people only had an interest in him because he was attractive, not because he was good at the sport. Someone had posted a video of one of his fights, and Cammy watched it.

It was the faena, the very last part of the bullfight-he would kill it. A few sticks-banderillas, Vega's mind supplied-hung from the bulls back, which was soaked red with blood. Vega's clothes were stained by it along the legs and flecks of it could be seen around his chest. He was walking calmly towards the bull, a red cape in one hand, a sword in the other. He put the arm holding the sword behind his back, held the cape out, inched his way forward. And then the bull charged, Vega barely seemed to care, stepping away calmly, passing the cape across the bull's face, the bulky creature passing centimeters from the man. He walked again to face the bull, shook the cape, it charged. He led it in a tight circle around him, those horns so close to cutting into his legs, then, much to her terror, Vega stopped turning with the cape, body completely still as he continued to pass it along his left side, the bull chasing madly, and for brief, horrifying seconds, his back was to the bull. He didn't even turn his head to watch it as it passed behind him. Instead, he switched the cape to his right hand, and successfully lead the bull around him in a complete circle.

When the kill finally came, it startled her. They danced back and forth with the cape for what felt like so long, and it was strangely beautiful. She could see-if it weren't for the banderillas that had already impaled the bull-how someone would enjoy watching this. And then that blade plunged into the poor animal, it coughed blood onto the yellow sand, and then it fell to its knees. She was watching something die. An innocent animal that had no idea what was going on. All of the previous artistry of the capework, the dance between man and animal, all of that was forgotten as she saw the bull roll onto its side, and die. People were cheering over it. Celebrating. She stopped the video, unable to watch anymore. "I can't do this," she whispered at the screen. Looking around, she found what she was looking for, and grabbed the phone off the other end of the couch. She dialed Chun-Li without a second thought.

The woman answered fairly quickly. "Chun-Li here. How can I help you?" She tended to give that line when she didn't know who was calling. Cammy had forgotten momentarily that this was Vega's phone, not her own.

"Will you come to it?" she asked.

"How did you get this-" Chun-Li said at first. Then she remembered the bizarre situation, and stopped herself. It was Cammy calling her, obviously. So she asked, "Sorry, come to what?"

"The bull fight. I don't want to be there by myself," she said.

"I guess I could," Chun-Li said slowly. She hadn't planned on it.

"I'll pay for it." Or rather, Vega would. He shouldn't have offered her free reign over his money, but no take-backs.

"Oh," Chun-Li said. "It wasn't about the cost. I'm in the same boat as you. I don't want to see this animal die."

Cammy sighed. Chun-Li felt bad for being so amused at how soft and upset and almost childish Vega's voice sounded. "This is really so difficult. I don't know what to do. I don't want to hurt it! But I don't want to be there by myself, either and-ugh, this is so frustrating."

Chun-Li listened, sympathizing with her friend. It had to be horrible enough, having to pretend to be Vega. But to also do something that went against one's own moral code had to make it even worse. She shouldn't have to go through that alone. "I'll be there, Cammy, don't worry."

Vega's brain was practically screaming out against that declaration. He didn't want Chun-Li anywhere near him. The woman was a pain, not a comfort. But Cammy tried to ignore it. "Thanks, Chun-Li." He didn't want to say that. There was no reason to, this woman drove him crazy. But Cammy kept it cool. She wasn't Vega, and Chun-Li was her friend.

_Friend? I'm stumbling through the glass of a window, her feet planted in my chest and holy shit, that's such a far drop, am I going to die? There's glass everywhere, I feel all of these tiny cuts opening up in my skin, I'm grabbing at anything I can, but I'm too far away, and the ground is coming up so fast and-_

Cammy felt suddenly out of breath, and inhaled sharply to compensate. She remembered Chun-Li telling her about this shortly after it happened. Guile had found her, almost bleeding to death. Her friend was lucky to be alive. How had Vega even survived such a fall? She tried to think about it, but he simply had no memory of what happened after he hit the ground, his thoughts picking up a few days later back in Thailand. And those were all awful-feeling incompetent, inadequate, worthless. The self-criticism and berating his brain gave him was worse than anything Bison had to say to him. He got pretty mad at himself when he failed at things, it seemed. A lot of things made him mad, really, like-

_These idiots are going to start getting reckless if we don't start the practice run already, and Bison is here with Sagat, Jesus, Jesus, I am under so much pressure right now. I glance up at Killer Bee to reassure myself that she is still here, prepared to prove her value in live combat situations, and she's been trained by me, and if she fails, I've failed, and what would Bison do if I hadn't done this perfectly? _

_But he's speaking with Sagat still, also distracted and I think my nerves are going to grind themselves to dust if we don't just start this already, I look back to Killer Bee and the men, and-_

_Clench my jaw for the briefest, most intense of seconds as I see one of them grab her backside, squeeze, they're laughing, she doesn't realize the problem with this, and oh my God, will this asshole regret that he'd ever been born. Take quick steps towards him, I'll split his head open and spill his brains on the ground, I swear it to God, and my hands are in his hair and he's crying out that he's sorry, he was just playing around, and I slam his face into the wall to shut him up. Blood is already leaking from his forehead. I punch him over and over, my knuckles are sore, not going to stop, grab him by the hair and pull him back to a standing position, he keeps trying to slump down into a ball like he can hide from this. Someone, vaguely I hear them, shouts for Bison, but I am much too incensed by this piece of shit, this scum, this disgusting fucking animal, and then suddenly, _I'm _the one being grabbed and pulled away!_

_"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Bison snaps as he pulls me away from the semiconscious man._

_"Teach your _pigs _to behave more like humans, or I'll slaughter them myself," I hiss back without thinking that this is Bison I'm speaking to, a man who could erase my mind, deteriorate every one of my cells into nothing, but I don't care because this asshole grabbed her and I won't allow it, he can't allow it, the man must be reprimanded and I am the only one who can do it. I walk away without another comment to him, I can't stand it anymore, as if I'm the one who did something wrong here and Killer Bee keeps a watchful eye the whole time, anticipating escalation but still on stand-by and I pass her. She doesn't understand that she has been wronged, so I tell her, "If any man ever touches you, break every bone within reach."_

_"Disregard those orders," Bison tells her, and I can't believe he would even think of correcting me on this._

_"Affirmative," she responds._

_"Don't you tell her to ignore me!" Before I know what I'm doing I'm making my way to him. "She is not an object for any of them to toy with!" I try to hit him because he's pissed me off and part of me knows that was the stupidest thing I could do and part of me knows I have to because he needs to understand how important this is. But he catches my fist without even looking for it, he's staring me down, willing me to calm down, and I don't care because he's pissed me off. His eyes are white, purple jumps from his fingers, my hand burns, sharp pains stab their way up my arm, and he lets go._

_"You forget yourself, Commander," he says in a tone that's threatening much worse than the burning pain in my arm__. "I will give orders. You will follow them. Are we clear on this matter?"_

_I want to spit in his face, how could he do this? No one should touch her, ever, she's too perfect for their disgusting paws to infect her with their filth. And it's about power with him, not her safety, he doesn't want to be subverted by some inferior, some underling, and I grit my teeth. "I will not be held responsible for what happens to the next man who touches her," I reply evenly before turning away for good this time, and I mean it. She is too beautiful to deserve to be treated that way, and beauty demands respect._

She hissed, squeezing her eyes shut. Just the memory was making her irritated. He'd wanted to defend her, to show the men in Shadaloo what happened to those who dared to touch her. As far as Vega knew, no one ever would again, too frightened of what might happen to them in their sleep. It left her feeling awfully confused. How should she respond to it? Feel flattered that a man was willing to go to such lengths to keep her dignity in tact? Or to be horrified by his violent reaction? He cared about her, and he was defending her in the only way he knew how. She crossed her arms tight, toying with the fabric of her shirt under her fingers.

"Why do you care so much about me?" she whispered. She could know the answer, right now. Peak in his brain. So many of his memories had come to her without her willing them to do so, but she would feel a little guilty if she went snooping herself. But the question was nagging at her, and she had to find out, somehow. Other people cared about her. Chun-Li, Guile, Julia, her co-workers in Delta Red. What would they have done if they saw a man touching her against her will? She smirked in spite of herself. Guile wouldn't hesitate to beat the crap out of anyone who wronged the ones he cared for. Maybe Vega's reaction had been on the more extreme side, but she couldn't say that her other friends wouldn't react in an aggressive manner as well.

She would figure all of this out. But she would wait until she could see him again to get an answer.

* * *

"Are you even _watching _the movie?"

He looked up, startled that they'd noticed his lack of interest. He'd been coerced into watching some nonsensical action film with a few of Cammy's friends. He didn't mean to submit so easily. He had no interest in whatever the Fifth Element was-last time he checked, it was boron, but he had a feeling they weren't watching a documentary about the periodic table. Apparently 'movie night' was a regular, almost weekly, occurrence for Cammy and her friends, and it would be out of character for her to not attend. So he did. He recognized two of the Delta Red members, and Cammy's brain supplied the names to match the faces-Lita and Ginzu. And Chun-Li had tagged along, too, as if keeping tabs on him. Making sure he didn't do anything to wrong Cammy. "I am," he said, feigning interest. He was good at that.

"Oh yeah? What's going on right now, then?" Lita said, raising an eyebrow.

He balked at the question, definitely unsure of how to respond. He glanced at the paused screen. The movie had something to do with space, apparently. He didn't know anything about it beyond what he could see in that one still, having been too distracted in his thoughts to pay attention to the movie. It didn't interest him, anyway. "Some...space battle..." he tried, waving a hand. Cammy's brain wasn't much help-she had a basic idea of what the movie was about, but not enough to give a satisfactory answer, apparently.

Ginzu made a noise like a buzzer, and said, "Wrong!"

"If you aren't interested, maybe we should try another movie," Chun-Li said, raising an eyebrow. "There's always that one romantic comedy that I know you've been dyingto see."

Vega stared back at her, barely able to mask his contempt. "I think this one is fine," he said through gritted teeth.

"Yuck, no chick flicks, ladies," Ginzu added. Vega was grateful the little bug was opposed to changing the film. Even if he wasn't interested in this one, a romantic comedy would be outright offensive to his sensibilities.

"Well, can't say I didn't try," Chun-Li said with a smile and reclined on the couch. Vega sent her a glare before returning his eyes to the screen.

"Can we get back to it, then?" Lita asked. "Everyone's still interested?"

Everyone confirmed this, and they began playing the movie again. Vega tried to follow it for a little while, and Cammy's brain was mildly interested, but he just couldn't bring himself to watch it. He had bigger things to worry about, of course. He was anxious over the Fallas Festival that would be going on soon. Cammy, if unable to go through with it, could essentially ruin his entire career. There was also the daunting possibility that she could slip up, and get him gored. He'd never gotten a cornada. He'd almost been scraped by a bull's horns _once_, but that was it, and he didn't want to ever have to worry about it. Plus, bull's horns tended to find their mark around the groin, and he certainly didn't want anything down there getting injured. Severing of the femoral artery was something worth worrying about, but he'd probably rather take his chances with that injury than a life without reproductive organs.

Hopefully she would surprise him in a more pleasant way, though. If she simply let his brain take over, she could probably do this. He wasn't so certain that it would be a fight well-received by the aficionados, or even the more casual fans, but all he was concerned about at this point was coming away from it with his body, and his career, in tact. He could come back from a less than satisfactory fight. He couldn't come back from a dishonorable one.

But Cammy was quick. She was agile. He could come away from this in good shape. He planned on going there to watch. He knew he'd have to pay for the tickets at a ridiculous mark-up, but he couldn't stand waiting. He'd have to be there, watch what she did, maybe even somehow give her advice. It was unlikely he'd get a seat close enough to do that, though. And, well, why would he want to be so close anyway? It was a gruesome thing. Why was he even planning on going at all? Watching that jerk, that murderer, take another life. Hadn't he done enough already? How many people had he killed by now?

And now he was angry. Forget him! He could rot in that arena, alone and scared. He could face off against the bull without any help.

He bit his lip, blinking quickly. She really hated him. He began to feel guilty. But why did he care? He wasn't one for guilt trips. But being here, with her brain, it was beginning to bother him that he had ever taught her the horrible things that he did. It was part of his work, it was his job. If he hadn't done it, Bison would have gotten someone else to. At least this way, he could be with her, even if he was turning her into nothing but a killing machine. And was that so different from what he was?

She still felt guilty sometimes, he could feel it in her brain without probing. She felt guilt over the people she'd harmed, the faces she couldn't even remember but regretted all the same. And at first, he felt bad for her, that she'd never had a choice, and was now forced into carrying this guilt with her. But then he realized that the guilt was a good thing. If she regretted the deaths she caused, she was human. If she regretted, then she was already so much more different than himself.


	10. Chapter 10

The sun was hot, and the outfit was not exactly helping matters. It looked more cumbersome than it actually was, though with how tight the taleguilla were, she felt completely exposed in front of all of these people. Then again, it wasn't really _her _crotch being ogled and possibly judged. It was Vega's. And she didn't want to think about it anymore than she had to. Plus she had more to worry about right now than how much of her current body people could glean from the clinging blue fabric. Her heart was already pounding like mad, and she'd been so anxious she couldn't even bring herself to eat dinner the night before, and forgot about breakfast altogether. She watched the banderilleros place their barbs in the bull's back. This was her bull. Its coat glistening with sweat and blood, frothing at the mouth, enraged. In Vega's mind, she found that a large chunk of the matador's success relied on the bull not understanding that the man and cape were separate entities, that the man was the one causing the harm and the cape was a red herring. A bull with that sort of knowledge was the most dangerous. And she wondered if this bull had that sort of knowledge.

She inhaled deeply through her nose, eyes wandering over the faces in the crowd. Where was Chun-Li? There were a lot of people out there. Any of them could be here to kill her. They could finish the job before the bull did, easy. And it could look like the animal had done it, if they knew what they were doing. She closed her eyes, trying to force such irrational thoughts out of her head. She felt someone's hand smack her shoulder in a friendly manner, and a man-another torero-said, "How's it going? Nervous yet?"

"Never," she responded. She supposed that's how he would respond. Vega wasn't so thoughtless as to be cruel or harsh to people here. He knew he could damage his reputation, cause people to lose interest in him if he acted like a jackass. Even if he thought someone deserved to be treated like crap, he kept it to himself, relieving his frustrations in less than savory ways under the cover of darkness. She didn't want to think about that, though. Didn't know what memories that would bring out of his mind.

The man seemed entertained enough by the answer, laughing. "He's a feisty one. I'd watch your back, eh?"

Then finally, that dreaded, awful moment had come. The banderillas were all placed, and it was time for the final third of the fight-the few minutes in which all attentions would be focused on her and the death of the bull. She inhaled again, never seeming to get enough air. She gripped the sword rolled into the cape, holding the cloth stiffly. She just had to trust in his brain to take over here. She had to try not to get in the way. It wasn't nervous about the bull, the animal that was trotting in a tight circle, looking for the source of its pain. The rest of the cuadrilla had cleared the arena, and she was alone here now. Once more, she skimmed the crowd in search of her friend. She needed the reassurance. If she died here, at least then, somebody would know what had happened to her. She took a few steps towards the bull, unsure of herself, and it was clear in her gait. The crowd was put off-this wasn't what they had come to expect from Vega. She could hear the animal heaving breaths, and it snorted, hooked its head. Feisty? It was _pissed._

She swallowed hard, brows drawing together as she studied the animal. She heard someone whistle, and glanced up. Finally, there was some relief. It had been Chun-Li, waving and nodding discreetly. The little motion made Cammy feel worlds better, but she was startled to see her own body there too, sitting next to Chun-Li, arms crossed, eyes watching critically, looking fairly anxious. He seemed annoyed, almost, as if she'd already screwed up when the fight hadn't even started yet.

"She can't ruin this for me," Vega muttered under his breath.

"Don't be a jerk," Chun-Li said. "This must be nerve-wracking for her."

"It's my body, not hers. If it gets damaged, what would she care?" He knew well enough, now, that she _wouldn't_ care. And it only made him more irritable.

Cammy gripped the cape hard, knuckles white as she held it out. And then, the bull was on the move, and she thought she'd piss herself before it even got within five feet of her. She jumped out of the way, terrified as it went racing by, and the crowd laughed. Vega buried his face in his hands and groaned loudly. "No, no, no, it's all over."

She clenched her jaw as Vega's brain absorbed what was going on. He wasn't going to allow this. Anything less than perfection was worthless, completely unacceptable. It wasn't enough for him to just tell himself he was good at everything, he had to actually _prove _it. They were going to have to step it up a notch to get the crowd back on their side. She drew her brows together as she stared down the bull. "All right," she whispered. "You do it then." And she let go, as risky as it was, allowing Vega's mind to take the lead on this one.

It was frightening at first. Not simply because of the bull, but because she was trapped in this body, watching it as if a spectator, as it moved across the sand. She shook the muleta with more fervor, crooned to the bull in Spanish, and it charged. She panicked, but Vega's mind ignored her, draping the cloth over the bull's face as it passed. She was right against it, felt its bloodied flanks drag by her body, leaving wet and sticky blood on the obscenely expensive uniform. And it wasn't so terrifying, after all. They went back and forth, pass after pass, and she thought she was finally getting the hang of it, until she slipped up.

A heavy head connected with her chest, and she felt her breath leave her. The horns-the horns were hooked under her arms, and she uttered a cry. She hadn't stumbled back, wasn't going to be trampled. Hadn't been impaled. But she was lifted into the air by the furious bull as the crowd cried out. Without thinking twice, she pushed off the ground herself, used the slight momentum provided by the bull's rising head to help her in this, legs pointed skywards for the briefest of seconds before coming down. The muleta fluttered wildly in a crimson arc, echoing the contours of her own arched back for but a moment, and she unwrapped her arms from around the bull's horns, sitting upright. Quickly, but gracefully, she pressed off the bull with her hands, careful of the banderillos, and felt it disappear from under her, her feet planted in the sand again. The crowd was going beserk at this point, and Cammy could feel Vega's brain panicking. _You let it hit you, you let it hit you! _But the bull was coming back. Head lowered, horns ready to pierce skin and shatter bone, headed straight for her as she climbed to her feet and-

_Kill it now._

Quickly she raised her arm, obeying his mind's demand, and drove the blade into the bull. The animal vomited blood. It crashed to the sandy ground as she stepped quickly out of its way, heaving breaths. She stared down at the dying animal, feeling dizzy and light-headed. The cheering of the crowd had become a bizarre drone in the back of her mind as her thoughts raced. She killed it. All it took was his brain to demand it, and she did it without hesitating. She'd let him take back over, and what would have happened if she couldn't get that control back? What else would she have done? She wobbled slightly, panting as she stared at the blood pooling around the animal. Killed it, just like he said. Murdered. He was, she was, they were murderers. Her eyes rolled into her head as she fell to her knees, and into the blood stained sand.

"Oh my God, Cammy," Chun-Li cried as she saw Vega's body collapse. It wasn't moving. Had she gotten hurt? There was so much blood, it was difficult to tell from where she sat. She looked over at Vega, but was surprised to see he was already forcing his way down the arena stairs. She followed quickly, hesitating only for a brief second to jump over the wall like he'd done. He didn't seem to care about anything but getting back to his unconscious body, not slowing down when a few men ran after him, demanding that he stop.

He slid to a halt beside his body, dropping to his knees as he did so. "Cammy," he whispered quickly. It wasn't wise, he knew, to move an unconscious person, and it was so difficult to keep from trying to roll her over onto her back, to try to wake her back up.

"Ma'am, step away from him!"

People were shouting at him to stop, that he could be injuring the body further, but he was too focused. Chun-Li caught up with him, tugging him by the arm. "We aren't supposed to be down here, you idiot!" The crowd was torn between being upset at the people halting the final few seconds of the show and the next fight, and the rest were curious as to what was going on. Why had these two women run to the matador like that? Did they know him personally, or were they just crazed fans?

"Shit," Vega muttered beneath his breath as he spotted security finally.

"Good job," Chun-Li said, tugging him to his feet. He looked down at his body again, wondering what had gone wrong. He caught sight of the chest still rising and falling, so there was at least that. The whole fight had been a bit of a cock up, but the main goal was that she got out of it safely. And now that might not have happened. The security was followed by an on site doctor, and that provided a minor relief for Vega. The doctor all but ignored them, but they couldn't say the same of the security.

"You two know how dangerous that was?" the first guard asked, pointing to the arena.

Vega, while irritated with the condescension, bit back a nasty remark about rent-a-cops, and said instead, "I just wanted to make sure she-he-was okay." He pointed over at Cammy. "We're very good friends. I know I wasn't thinking clearly, and I shouldn't have jumped down here." He didn't want to deal with the legal issues involved, and knew that maybe if he showed some kind of repentance, they'd let the two of them off. If they got really lucky.

"Well, look, you know you could've gotten very hurt?"

They both nodded.

"And you should be arrested."

"We'll pay the fine," Vega said quickly. He couldn't be separated from her.

"Done this before?" the other guard asked, raising an eyebrow at the fast response.

"No," he said. He found it more difficult to control his irritation. Was that because of the situation, or was it just that Cammy's mind had a harder time with it? "Like I said, he and I are good friends. He's told me about people jumping in here before, and what happens to them."

"I'm not paying this," Chun-Li whispered to him through gritted teeth.

"You jumped in here too, sweetheart," Vega whispered back. But both were relieved that the appeal for a fine worked out in their favor. They were given their citations, and lead out of the plaza, warned that if they ever did anything like that again, they wouldn't be let off so easily. This didn't ease Vega's frustrations, though. He was still riddled with anxiety over Cammy, and his own body. It didn't _look _like she'd gotten injured at any point during the fight. The next bullfight had already started, and the crowd had probably all but forgotten about the fallen matador. He had no idea what was going to happen with his own career. The display had begun in a cowardly manner, but Cammy quickly fell in step, giving the people what they wanted, until she let the bull hit him. And to top it all off, there was the grand finale-a fainting matador. Or, at least, he had to hope that was all that had happened.

* * *

"Oh, my _head_." She rubbed her eyes as she woke up, feeling slightly shaky and disoriented. Where was she? Glancing around, it looked a bit like a doctor's office. She remembered the bullfight, and then sighed. Right. She'd killed the animal, just like he'd wanted. She frowned, now upset at the reminder. How could she have gone through with it? She shouldn't have done it, shouldn't have ever agreed to it. Even if she let his mind take over, she still had the power to prevent it from happening, but did nothing. That made her no less guilty than him.

"How are you, other than that?"

She nearly jumped at the sound of the voice, startled that there was someone else present and she hadn't even noticed. "Oh, um, I guess. I mean I wasn't um, gored, if that's what you're asking."

The man smirked. "That much was apparent fairly quickly. After all, you never have been before, why would you start now?"

She blinked, and thought about that for a second. How many times had he done this before? How many other bulls had he killed?

"So what's the trouble?" the man asked.

"Ahh..." she hummed, thinking for a second. What _was _the problem? Other than the big, glaring one of aural displacement. "I remember feeling very dizzy, and light-headed. And then I just sort of blacked out."

"What did you eat this morning?" She shook her head, indicating that she hadn't at all. "How about for dinner last night?"

"Forgot that one, too," she said.

"Well, that could be a problem," the man said, shaking his head a bit. "You need to eat, especially when you have to do something so physically intense as this."

She nodded. That made sense, she supposed. And she had been incredibly nervous, stressed, disgusted. All of it sort of culminated at once for her, and she couldn't handle it. Maybe he couldn't either. She couldn't be sure. In that brief, horrifying second, she belonged to him, and it was difficult to distinguish which one of them was feeling what. "Right. I'll make sure to do that." It wasn't necessarily true. She couldn't be sure that she would be hungry for a little while now. Anything with meat in it would just serve to remind her of the animal.

"You're free to see your own personal physician now, if you feel the need to do so. A check up could never hurt," the man said with a shrug. "And, ah, some girls have been really adamant about seeing you. They were expelled from the plaza for leaping into the ring when you passed out, but they're saying they know you."

His brain seemed pretty exasperated to hear that. Nothing new, some girl or another claiming to know him, doing whatever pathetic thing they could just to get him to talk to them for a brief second. They all thought _they _would be the ones he would fall for, become enamored by them after a chance meeting. They all read too many romance novels, or watched too many awful movies. She gritted her teeth, irritated. At first, the attention was novel. He wasn't used to it. And then it just became frustrating to be chased after again and again, all of this superficial interest, his privacy invaded. He didn't want it, and knew none of them would ever love him if they knew him as well as they said they wanted to. The attention was fine at arms' length, hearing people say all of these positive things about him. But when they were actually approaching him, trying to genuinely gain his interest, it was annoying. He had no interest in them personally. Ready to dismiss these women as another few pathetic fans, she shook her head, but then caught herself. "Wait, what are their names?" she asked.

"Cammy White and Chun-Li Xiang."

Cammy ran a hand through her tangled hair. She looked down at herself. The outfit was still on. All that blood was still there. On her. She perked up at the names, though. Cammy had come here? Did she care that he could be hurt? A brief surge of joy was stemmed quickly when she realized she was immersing herself in his thoughts again. And his own brain became disappointed upon the realization that it wasn't really Cammy out there. Cammy didn't care for him. She frowned. It really bothered him that she disliked him. It almost made her feel guilty. Almost. "I do know them, actually. Can they come here?"

"Sure. I'll show them in."

Within a few minutes, there were two familiar faces in the room. One made her irritated, but she quickly put a stop to that feeling. It didn't matter to her if Vega didn't like Chun-Li, because _she _was in control here, not him. And the other left her feeling some pathetic mix of warmth and emptiness. He looked worried, and asked, "What happened?"

"Your body is fine, I just skipped more meals than I should have," she said, crossing her arms.

He seemed content with that answer, but said, "Be more careful." Then, he glanced down at the bag in his hands, seeming to be debating something. "Here," he said, handing it to her.

A gift? For her? No one really did stuff like this for her. She blinked a few times. It was _him_ no one really did stuff like that for. How sad, she thought. Her friends sent her gifts on her birthday, and at Christmas. She thought with his mind for the briefest of seconds, coming up blank for him. He didn't have friends. He was very lonely, in spite of his fame, which struck her as strange. He was too paranoid to get close to anyone. Too deranged to care much about another person. With the exception of herself, for whatever disturbing reason. She wasn't going to feel bad for him, though. He did this to himself.

She took the bag, and looked inside, eyes lighting up at the sight of a plush cat with a bag of candy tied around the neck. "Awwww!" she cooed, and Chun-Li laughed immediately while Vega sighed.

"Try not to do things like that," he said, shifting his weight uncomfortably. He didn't coo and giggle and make other silly noises like that one, and it was bizarre watching himself do it.

"This is-it's so sweet of you though!"

He blushed, eyes studying every other part of the room but her. "Well, you just did me a favor. You can eat those if you want, and, well..." he trailed off. She'd never seen him at a loss for words. It was almost kind of cute. She smiled and made the plush cat wave its arms at him.

"You don't know what to saaaay," she said in a sing-song voice.

"Stop it," he warned.

"You gave me a kiiiitty," she continued singing.

"Cammy."

She smiled, but stopped embarrassing him further. "Thanks," she said finally, untying the ribbon around the cat's neck and taking one of the candies. How had she gone so long without junk food?

"I'll be honest," Chun-Li said, a hand going to her hip. "I didn't think he had it in him."

Vega shot her a dirty look. Normally he didn't do things like this. In Cammy's mind, when someone did you a favor, you were supposed to pay them back somehow. He felt almost obligated to give her something. Cammy said, "Life is full of surprises. I think I've learned that much from all of this, but hopefully that isn't the lesson Rose was talking about." She realized her mistake pretty quickly, and closed her eyes with a sigh.

"You went to her?" Vega asked quickly. "Don't let her near me, there's no telling what she'll do. Brainwash me, curse me, who knows?"

"Rose wouldn't do something like that," Cammy replied, disappointed that he felt that way about her. "She's my friend."

"She isn't mine," he said.

"Have you ever _tried?" _Vega didn't have an answer for that.

"What did she have to say?" Chun-Li asked, wondering if any sort of help was able to be offered by the woman.

Cammy shrugged. "She told me she couldn't fix it. But she said it wouldn't last much longer, either."

"There's some relief in that," Vega muttered, crossing his arms. The concept of being in the body of the opposite sex was novel for all of about twenty seconds. After that, it just became a cage, leaving you trapped in someone else's life. He wanted Cammy out of him, before anything else was required of her. Before she slipped up and got hurt. He could only hope that Rose was right.


	11. Chapter 11

Respect.

The word echoed through her mind-his mind-and it tortured him. Respect was-

Why did it bother him? Why did he demand it yet loathe it? Authority was something he despised, yet he _was _an authority.

"_Let me teach you a lesson, Mireia."_

She gasped, eyes fluttering open. Had someone fired a gun? She sat up slowly, putting a hand to her head, heart racing. Those strange thoughts, those weird twilight moments, were beginning to give her too much information about Vega. She'd learned a lot already, and didn't want to know much more. But somewhere between sleep and lucidity, thoughts just sort of happened, and it wasn't until they got intense that she realized something was amiss.

The sound of the gun still lingered in her mind, and she slid from the bed. Vega's bedroom was still not familiar enough to her, and she didn't like being here alone. At least in her apartment, she had her cats. Here, there was nothing. Just suffocating, terrifying silence. Chun-Li was gone, having had to leave shortly after the bullfight. It was kind of her to take the time out of her day to begin with, but Cammy was beginning to desperately wish that she could have gotten the woman to stay. She didn't like being alone.

Trying to keep her breathing steady, she approached the bedroom door, and opened it as quietly as she could. If someone was here, she didn't want them to know that she knew. And they most certainly were here, they had to be. They'd come to kill her, finally realized what she'd done to her step-dad, that awful, disgusting creature. They'd arrest her for that crime, but didn't they understand she'd had _no choice? _And that the man hadn't died with his body, but lived on in the despicable visages of all the other men she'd had to kill, and those she had not yet had the chance to exterminate? Why didn't anyone else get her reasoning here? Why were they so focused on condemning her?

She gripped the door frame tightly, inhaling slowly and reasserting her own identity. Was that how he thought? That it was his job to kill other people to rid the world of some problem? Was he so far gone that he didn't see that he _was _the problem? She'd heard once that a large part of insanity was not realizing that one was insane. And she'd had trouble grasping that. It seemed that, if one were behaving in a bizarre manner, then they would know it. But now, being inside the mind of someone so disturbed, experiencing it first hand, she saw how someone could slowly be twisted into some caricature of their former self, some tragic shell, and she was overwhelmed with pity for him. But the pity was brief, and only for whatever part of him may have still known that what he was doing was wrong, if it was still in there. After all, he didn't deny that he enjoyed killing these men.

Her eyes wandered over the dark home, familiar to his brain but a mystery to her. Where could someone be hiding? The thought frightened her, and she couldn't bring herself to move. Moving would give away her position. So now she was stuck here, standing motionless by the door frame, waiting. She could stand here all night if she needed to. Just wait for the intruder to make a noise. It was nearly a half hour of tense, silent standing before she noticed that this was irrational. Her own fear, coupled with his psychotic paranoia, had left her paralyzed there, barely breathing, listening intently. With a sigh that seemed like thunder in the quiet flat, she crept back towards the bed. Checking the phone, the time read three forty-two. She couldn't exactly call anyone she knew to comfort her. Barcelona was only ahead of London by an hour, but Chun-Li was definitely asleep by now. And Rose wasn't even the sort of person to have a telephone of any kind. There was always Vega. He could be asleep, but maybe, she thought, he was her best bet. She'd feel more guilty about disrupting Chun-Li, anyway, and who knew this brain better than Vega? If there was a way to calm down, he'd know it.

The phone rang. After the third ring, she began to feel a little guilty about this, and was about to hang up. Then she heard her own voice, groggy and only a little exasperated. "What is it?"

"Um, well, I'm sort of frightened."

There was silence on the other end. It really did seem quite silly when she finally came out and said it, especially with his voice. Had it come from her own, it surely would have sounded a little childish, but not quite as ridiculous. "Of what?" he asked.

"I thought I heard someone fire a gun."

That got his attention, and he sounded instantly more awake. "Where? When? Have you searched the area?"

"No," she said, shaking her head. Maybe he was only going to make this worse. "I listened near the door for nearly an hour, and didn't hear a single other thing. But it sounded so close at the time, it woke me up."

He sighed irritably. "Woke you up? Did you dream about it?"

She thought about it. "Not quite, I don't think. It wasn't yet a dream, it was sort of inbetween. You understand?"

"Then maybe you imagined it."

She closed her eyes. Maybe she had. Thinking about it now, she wasn't so sure if she really heard the noise or not. She'd been in a drowsy state, pondering something. What had it been again? Something about authority, and respect, and-"Wait. Vega, who is Mireia?"

There was silence on the other end, and the name conjured up an intense sadness the moment she said it, and she wished she'd never asked. But it was the last thing she'd heard before the gunshot. "Why are you asking that?"

"Before I heard the gun, I heard a man say something about Mireia. Who is she?"

"Just shut up and go to sleep!" The line went dead. Cammy was taken aback by the outburst. True, it _was _Vega, and she had waken him up in the middle of the night. But so far, he'd been pretty patient with her. Surprisingly so, in fact. Even when he did seem irritated with her, it didn't feel like serious anger, like this latest remark had. She felt bad about it. Or was it this sadness associated with Mireia that was making her feel so upset? Either way, she was left feeling more alone than before the phone call, which was rather counterproductive.

Looking down at the phone, she found the recently dialed numbers, and was contemplating calling Chun-Li when a different name caught her eye. Labeled '_capitán', _she wondered where the nickname had come from, and why someone like Bison tolerated it. She wondered, in general, why someone like Bison tolerated someone like Vega at all. Vega was very much concerned with earning the man's approval, which she found strange. Had she not just a few seconds ago been pondering his value of authority and respect? Yet here was this weird obsession with earning the respect of an authority figure. Did he realize that didn't make sense?

She dialed the number. She didn't know the time difference between Thailand and Spain, but didn't particularly care either. It must have been more than a couple of hours-when the man answered, he didn't sound tired or groggy at all, but very much awake and refined, as usual. "May I confirm who is calling, Vega or Killer Bee?"

"My _name _is Cammy, not Killer Bee."

"What could you possibly want to speak with me about? Why aren't you asleep?"

"None of your business," she said. "And I want to ask you something about Vega."

There was a brief silence. He was quite perplexed by that statement. "You realize his mind is at your disposal. Simply ask it what you want to know."

"That would be disrespectful."

"I don't understand why you would rather call me than simply ask him yourself."

"It seems to upset him. So I don't want to be a jerk and violate his privacy and well, sometimes his mind is sort of...um..."

"Disturbing."

"...Yeah," Cammy said, almost feeling defeated by admitting it. "But, just tell me, please, who is Mireia?"

"Mireia was his mother."

The name carried with it another immediate pang of sorrow, guilt, emptiness. It was overwhelming. "Why does the thought of her make him so sad?"

"She's dead."

Now it was almost difficult to breathe. It was his body's fault more than her mind's, but it was uncomfortable all the same. "Why?" she whispered. There was that awful feeling again as she felt so depressed that she wanted to cry, but no stress was relieved as he seemed unable to do so. "What happened?"

"The man she married ended up murdering her."

She wanted to vomit. These sudden, vivid thoughts, she could hear this man's voice, see his mother's blood on the wall, the floor, hands around his throat, that pig, that monster, eliminate anything like him, all those ugly bastards destroying lives and the few beautiful things in this world and-!

"Oh," she whispered, wishing she hadn't pursued this topic. She put a hand to her head, rubbing her eyes with her thumb and forefinger. "Why did I even-" Her heart was racing, and she tried to steer her thoughts from this woman's death-she had no connection with her. "Jesus, why did this have to happen?" she wailed suddenly, unable to stop herself.

"It didn't happen to you. It is important that your identity remains distinct from his," Bison warned.

"But he killed her!" Cammy blurted. "I didn't want her to die! It was my fault!"

"Killer Bee-"

"_No!_" she cried, grabbing her hair with her free hand. "Don't call me that! _Yo no soy, no soy, m__e llamo Vega-_"

"Cammy," Bison said sternly, acquiescing to her terms in the hopes of finding a way to ground her to her identity. Cammy's idea of her own identity was fairly fragile, and mixing that with Vega's inner turmoil did not yield favorable results. "Remember, you aren't Vega. You're a separate person. You have a life of your own, and his is not it."

"_La maté, yo la maté_, _mi culpa, es mi culpa-_" she babbled, tears finally springing to her eyes as she rocked back and forth, pulling her hair. "It was my fault! I let her die!" How could he have been so useless? So pathetic and weak? Why couldn't he have saved her? If he really cared about his mom, he would've found a way to keep her from being killed. No, this was the proof, this was evidence of his worthlessness. He could tell himself all he wanted that he was perfect, but here was the flaw, the chink in the armor. He was a joke. No matter what he did to improve on himself, to convince himself he had some kind of value, his mom's death would always be there to remind him what a lie it all was.

"You never had a mother," Bison said. "You never had any parents to lose, Cammy. You are not Vega."

"Cammy? I'm-she..." There was a sudden calmness, a brief lucidity. He'd screwed up. So badly, he screwed up. But Cammy-she was key in this. His second chance. If he saved her, protected her, it was proof, he wasn't a failure, he could save someone. If she was happy, and fixed, and he did everything right then-"What is this _freak's _obsession with me?" she screamed.

"Isn't it obvious to you?" he asked, confused that she wondered about it.

"Don't you condescend to me!" she cried.

"I have no obligation to deal with any of this," Bison said, now freely showing his irritation. "So enjoy your sleepless evening. And do your best to remember that you and he are different people." He hung up, and instantly she regretted her outburst.

"Wait, no, I'm sorry! Come back!" she cried pathetically, but he was gone. She was alone here again. She didn't want to be alone. She wrapped her arms around herself, fingers digging into the fabric of her shirt. She was completely miserable, trying desperately to ignore the fears and sorrow and lingering anger. She wished, for once, that she'd kept her mouth shut.

* * *

In a few hours, many miles away, Vega woke up. Glancing at the clock beside Cammy's bed, he sighed. Was it really that late? This body of hers absolutely hated waking up early, but he couldn't stand sleeping in late. It was already eleven, all that time wasted. He pulled himself out of the bed, rubbing his eyes and checking the phone. Hadn't it gone off sometime in the night? Who had been bothering him? He checked the missed call notification, and recognized the phone number as his own.

He almost returned the call. But then he remembered her probing questions and irrational fear, and he thought little of it. Where did she get off asking questions like that? Why did she even pretend to care? Could she even really do so? She was created, not born. Practically a machine. A machine with a very dirty past.

He scowled at the thought. Few of her friends knew that she was manufactured in a lab. Even those that did never brought it up. It was even upsetting him, just thinking about it. The sorrow it caused her to think that she was nothing more than a science project was too strong for him to ignore. Why was she even alive? What was her purpose, now that she'd gone rogue? Broken away from the programming? She had nothing. Building these friendships were her efforts at becoming her own person, but she knew that she was still very different. These people had families, had pasts and memories, personalities built up from their life experiences. What did she have?

He didn't want to think about this. Some weird feeling was beginning to manifest in the pit of his stomach, some sort of anxiety. She felt so useless and lost, like she was no one. Did she _want _to remember what she'd done in her life? Part of her said absolutely not, that it would be awful to even think about. Didn't want to remember the names and the faces, the cold and emotionless way in which she went about destroying their lives. But another part of her believed that it was _something_.

"You don't need that part," he muttered to her reflection, looking it in the eyes only briefly. As much as it pained him to be forgotten by her, it also pained him to know that the thoughts of the deaths she caused tortured her like that. As sick as it was-and it was sick, he could see now, from this relatively normal brain-he enjoyed the deaths he caused. He couldn't place why, he was never good with psychology and motivation. It made him feel alive, made _him _feel less awful about his own past. It was wrong. He could see that now. But how long, once he returned to himself, would he still realize that? And how long, if this awful body-trade kept up, would it be before Cammy started adapting to his malfunctioning-_perfect?-_brain?


	12. Chapter 12

She didn't get back to sleep, but that didn't really seem to have much of an impact on her. Usually when she got only a couple of hours of sleep, she was drained for the rest of the day, and took a nap at any possible interval. But in his body, it seemed like no big deal. He was ready to keep going, to burn that few hours of fuel and make something out of it. It was around seven when she finally couldn't stand being in the house anymore, and she threw on some old running clothes and got going. She felt a lot better outside like this. And maybe it had to do with the sunlight, getting out of that unfamiliar, dark place. Whatever it was, she welcomed it, even though she usually would've rather stayed in bed than gone out running. She hated to run. She'd rather exercise any other way possible. But he did it every other day, and had asked her to keep up with it. Maybe she'd been neglecting that request.

The exercise wasn't really bothering her now. It was making her feel a little better. The music was good, too. He really did listen to a lot of what she did, and she supposed she owed him a lot in that regard. She didn't like all of it, of course, and she was sure he'd dislike quite a bit of what she enjoyed. She set the music player to shuffle and just let herself be surprised by what songs she recognized and which she decided were too boring for a morning run. Maybe it wasn't so bad after all that they had something in common.

But she did wish he'd have been a little more accommodating to her the night before. She was so terrified, in an unfamiliar place, completely alone. His thoughts only made it worse, convincing her that someone really _was _there, out to get her, kill her. He was a complete nutjob, and she was starting to turn into one too. She didn't want to have to think about that. She knew that once this abysmal experiment was fixed, that she wouldn't think like he did anymore. The idea made her wonder if he was starting to think more like her. Would he be a nicer person? Or at least, more tolerable? Only time would tell.

A delighted cry caught her attention, which was impressive in itself-the woman had shouted loudly enough for her to hear over the music. Cammy looked up, and saw a woman pointing her phone at her. Her first thoughts were to wonder what the heck the girl was thinking, taking pictures of complete strangers. Then she realized it was just a fan, ecstatic at seeing Vega in person. She didn't stop running, so she was unsure of how great the photo would be as a result. The girl seemed satisfied enough.

Vega seemed so outgoing and charming from what she glimpsed of him in a public setting. So very, very different from what he actually was, and it was almost scary to think about. That someone so deranged and deadly could be hiding in plain sight, thought of as so normal and friendly. She didn't follow him closely or anything. Occasionally her curiosity got the better of her, and she would search his name online. Maybe part of her hoped some story would expose him for what he was. She knew she couldn't do it. She didn't have enough evidence to back the claim in a court room, and could end up in a lot of hot water, throwing an accusation like that around. Chun-Li had the same problem, and Vega was very good at covering his tracks-and his face. He'd tell opponents he wore that mask to protect his good looks, and maybe, knowing him, that was part of the reason. But he knew he couldn't show his face to anyone while in the cage or on his other, less savory job. So he got to keep his little secret from his adoring public.

She couldn't help but laugh a little to herself at the frustrating situation. She had to admit that living in the spotlight like that must've been pretty stressful, so hiding so much of who he was and what else he did had to be pretty difficult. He got a lot of media attention, and she would think that the last thing someone leading a double life as insidious as his would want was attention. But he enjoyed it when it was positive, abhorred it when it was invasive, and despaired in an almost pathetic manner when it was negative. Insults left him at a loss, his entire self-worth crumbling in an instant. It was almost pathetic. All the vanity, she was beginning to see, was a self-defense mechanism. If he told himself he was worth something enough times, then it had to be true. But it was an incredibly fragile system, and fell apart on a regular basis.

The burning in her throat and legs caught her attention, and she quit with the semi-introspective thoughts. Deciding she could stop for a rest, she slowed to a walk, trying to take more controlled breaths. Her legs ached from the intensity and length of the run. He had a good pair of legs, she decided. Toned and able to endure a pretty long run. He wasn't a bulky and big guy. Her friends like Colonel Wolfman, Guile, and even Ken made Vega look like an underfed kid, but she knew from experience that he was a very good fighter. Relying on strength alone, he believed, was a poor way to go into a fight. To him it was all about speed and momentum. She could identify with that, using the same tactics albeit with a different style. She wasn't weak by any means, but knew her line of work put her into fights with men much stronger than herself. It was senseless to try to be as strong as them, so she had to find other ways to overcome that obstacle.

Closing her eyes briefly, she inhaled one more time and started running again. It was sort of interesting, experiencing life as the opposite sex. There seemed to be advantages and disadvantages to nearly everything. While running, it was a bit of a relief to not have to worry about her chest bouncing around for everyone to see. But on the other hand, it reminded her all too aware that she was, in fact, biologically male at the moment, and she wasn't sure which was worse. Running itself was enjoyable-while she was him at least-because he had a lot of endurance. She just really, really didn't want to think about his genitals, and was almost terrified of breaking something. It seemed silly for a body to have its sensitive areas flopping and dangling around everywhere, primed for some awful accident. His mind never even considered that a possibility-he must not have cared too much, what with getting into a ring to fight a pissed off bull with nothing between its horns and his crotch but a few layers of fabric.

It was already warm out, and she'd broken into a sweat as a result. It was, at least, a comfortable sort of warmth, one that wasn't oppressive and humid. She wasn't exactly happy with the uphill sections of the run back to his home, but she decided if she ran the entire way, it'd be done with quicker. His body was enjoying the exhaustion at any rate. She'd heard rumours of this 'runner's high' thing, but never really stuck with running long enough to experience it herself.

She tugged at the white shirt a little, trying to fix it where it had bunched up under her arm. Barcelona was pretty. But it seemed like the sort of place she'd rather vacation in than live. And she simply didn't like this sort of climate very much. Maybe it was strange, but she didn't mind overcast days. And the cold didn't really bug her much either. She wasn't entirely sure how she ended up in London, but she liked it enough to take up permanent residence. When she'd first woken up there, she'd been so confused. Had no idea who she was, where she came from, why she could fight like a vicious animal. She'd later find out, much as she wouldn't want to. By then, London had become home.

It was strange, nearly indescribable. All control over her-or, his-body was suddenly lost. She stopped running mid-stride, nearly tumbling to the ground in the process. Reality blurred into one big mess around her, and she saw rather than felt his body hit the pavement before she was yanked away into a horrifying unconsciousness.

* * *

Miles from Barcelona, a slightly irritated young man trapped in the body of an amnesiac young woman was scrubbing away at the dishes. He didn't like doing this, but she'd forced him. How was he expected to eat off of plates that were barely able to be considered clean? He thought about dining out, but didn't want to put forth the effort. It wasn't until he was already halfway through cleaning these dishes that he knew it would have been the easier option. Part of him wondered, who cares about the dishes? He thought he could just get to them later. They weren't going anywhere, after all. But he quickly realized that was Cammy thinking, and sighed with disgust. The girl was a bit of a slob. Weren't girls supposed to be the clean ones? He tried to remember that she was what amounted to a child in an adult's body, and supposed that when he was that young...

No. Even then, he at least knew how to pick up after himself. What did a mindless drone need to know about cleaning?

"Degreaser my ass," he muttered as he drenched the plate in another few tablespoons of dish soap. This stuff wasn't getting clean enough. How did she stand it? These were plates and utensils she'd declared clean enough to use, but some of them still had food particles on them. Didn't she understand how disgusting that was? Something made a noise at his feet, and he rolled his eyes before looking down. One of the cats was rubbing against his leg again. Didn't the damned things get tired of doing that? Cammy's mind was feeling a little bit of sympathy towards it, and it gave him an urge to pick it up and start petting it. But he wasn't big on animals. He pushed it away with his leg gently, and could practically feel Cammy's brain pouting about it. Dishes were not more important than the cats.

When it happened, he certainly didn't expect it. He didn't even have time to react. Cammy's body fell limp, and there was a strange tugging sensation, as if he were being ripped away from the only thing grounding him to the world. He watched helplessly as her body dropped to the tile floor, not missing the edge of the sink on the way down.

It was an hour or so later that someone began knocking on the door. The visitor was persistent. "Vega," she called out, glancing around to make sure no one was around to hear. "Or Cammy. Whichever. It's me." Chun-Li waited a little longer, listening intently for movement inside the apartment. She could hear water running in the kitchen, which wasn't too far from the door. So that marked off the possibility of the person inside being asleep. She knocked again, a little louder, and still received no response. Was he that much of a jerk that he couldn't just validate her presence here? She sighed angrily, dialing Cammy's phone. It rang, but no one picked up. "Come on, you jerk!" she said, knocking on the door again. She strained her ears to hear, but there was nothing but the steady drone of running water, and the ringing of the phone. She bit her lip. What if something was wrong? What if they'd been swapped back? Or what if someone had broken in?

"Hey," she said, loud enough to be heard on the other side. "Hey, come on, please answer me? So I at least know everything's okay?" There was no response, no shuffling feet, rustling cloth, nothing to indicate that anyone was inside, save for the running kitchen sink. "I'm getting a little worried." She tried the phone again, but there was still nothing. She knocked a little more frantically, and finally, she decided, if it was just Vega being rude, then she'd feel better knowing everything was okay. At worst, something was wrong on the other side of that door, and Chun-Li had to know what it could be. With a couple of kicks, she knocked the door open. Hopefully, she thought, Cammy would understand.

Her suspicions were confirmed immediately as she made her way into the kitchen to turn off the running water. Cammy's body was lying motionless on the ground, and one of the cats had taken to bumping its head against hers. Chun-Li dropped down beside her friend, looking her over for injuries. She didn't spot any, and she supposed that was a good sign. But she was at a loss as to what caused this. Then, Cammy's phone rang again. She glanced at it, then back to Cammy, who was still completely motionless. Biting her lip, Chun-Li ventured to answer it. "Hello?"

There was a brief hesitation, and then a dreadfully familiar voice answered. "That was most certainly unexpected."

"Bison." The name was like poison in her mouth. "What do you have to do with this?"

"I'm looking for a status report on either Killer Bee or Vega. I've called both of them a few times now, and this is the first time anyone has answered."

"What's happened?"

"I'm not the one with them," Bison said, impatient and condescending as ever.

Chun-Li stifled a smart response, and instead answered, "I don't know. I'm with Cammy-or, her body, at least-and she's passed out."

"Can you wake her?"

Chun-Li tried shaking her. Smacked her face a little. Called her name. But no response. "Nothing. Not even a twitch."

Bison sighed. "I can only assume that his body is having the same issue. Damn."

"Did you do this?"

"We thought a remote switch may have been possible, and took the risk. Seems we were wrong however," he answered. She could practically hear him shrugging with nonchalance. It sickened her that he toyed around with people so easily, even his own comrades. "The 'souls', if you will, should assimilate back to the bodies momentarily. Some disorientation and confusion is to be expected. If it is any consolation, we must be very close, but they will have to come here for this to work."

Cammy's body had no soul in it. What did that make her? "That sounds dangerous," she managed to answer. "For Cammy."

"Then she can stay in Vega for the rest of her life, if she wants, though I'm unsure how happy he will be with that decision."

Chun-Li narrowed her eyes. It did seem like a pretty hopeless situation. Cammy certainly couldn't remain in Vega's body, but it seemed like taking her back to Shadaloo was a death sentence. There was no way she could trust Bison's word that Cammy would be returned safely, and she knew he would demand that no one accompany them on their way to the base. "I'll have to run this by her, first."

"She has no other choice," Bison said sternly. "They both come here, or they stay as they are. And do you really want your good friend to succumb to psychosis? To go back to life as an assassin?"

"What do you mean? Cammy would never do that," Chun-Li said. He was just trying to frighten her into compliance.

"For the time being, they have been able to remain as two separate, distinct identities within the same body. But this won't be true forever. The minds of the bodies they inhabit will assimilate their spirits, and in time, you won't know Killer Bee from Vega. His soul will have turned her into an embittered shadow of her former self, and hers will do little to keep him sane."

She put a hand to her head, closing her eyes briefly. The situation was just getting more and more hopeless. Even if, for whatever reason, Cammy did decide to stay where she was, she'd basically end up turning into a watered-down version of Vega. It seemed there could be no happy ending here, and Chun-Li struggled to think of a way to save her friend. "We'll just see about that," she said defiantly, and hung up the phone. She looked back down at her friend, and frowned. There must have been a way to fix this, to make sure Cammy came out all right in the end. She looked down at her phone and dialed Vega's number. There was no answer. "Things will turn out okay," she whispered. "It'll be okay." She was trying her hardest to believe that, anyway.


	13. Chapter 13

She gasped as she shot up from the bed, startled at the blanket over her face. She swiped it away, revealing her surroundings. White, white everywhere, it looked like it could be a hospital and was she back at Shadaloo? That would be a mild comfort. At least there, she didn't have to worry about the threat of being injured. She was too high of a ranking official to have to worry about that.

"No," she whispered to herself, squeezing her eyes shut. That place wasn't _safe. _Maybe for Vega, but not for her. She took a second to calm down. She was still in her running clothes. His clothes. What had caused her to pass out? It wasn't exhaustion-she knew his body could handle a much longer run than the one she went on. And after the bullfighting fiasco, she'd made sure she didn't skip out on any meals. And the sensations preceding the black out were outright bizarre. Disassociation was the choice term to describe it. She was familiar with that feeling, as much as she hated to admit-the feeling that she quite simply didn't exist. That feeling made her think of Bison and the rest of Shadaloo, the fact that she was manufactured. Could she even be considered human?

Alarm bells seemed to go off in Vega's head at the thought. He couldn't stand for her to think that way. She felt the corners of her lips tug up into a small smile. Even in the most primal parts of his mind, he simply did not want to see her upset. It was almost flattering, knowing that someone cared about her that much. The more she thought into it, the more she saw that it wasn't even some sick, twisted perversion of his. He didn't want to objectify her, didn't want to use her, didn't want to even consider her as a sexual creature. The thought of anyone doing so made him so furious that she went right back to being sickened and frightened of him again. While she was happy to know he didn't want her for sex, she was horrified at the thought of him hearing about her dating a man and coming home to find him dead. Would he really do something like that?

She didn't want to ask his mind to answer that. Distracting herself, she glanced around, spotting several other beds in the room, each with white sheets thrown over.

The realization hit her, and she screamed, terrified. Dead bodies, there were dead bodies on those beds. "Why the hell-?" she screamed, looking around for a way out. She all but fell from the bed, keeping a close eye on the corpses under their covers. If one of them moved, it would be the end of her. If one of them moved, she'd simply lose it.

She screamed at a sudden noise and jumped around to face the source of it. There were a pair of men coming in through a previously closed door, and they looked quite startled themselves. They looked to be dressed like doctors, and she realised they were coroners. "You get away from me!" she cried, holding out a hand. "I'm not dead yet!"

"Try to be calm," one advised.

"Calm? You try waking up in a room full of dead bodies! Calm! You be calm!" She inhaled deeply a few times, wide eyes wandering over the corpses again and she groaned. "How in the hell did I end up here?"

"You, uh, you were dead."

"Or, that's what the emergency response team concluded," the other said with a shrug.

"_What_ are you shrugging about! You threw me in with a bunch of _corpses_ you idiot!" she cried shaking her head.

"Calm down," the man repeated, seeming a little exasperated by now.

"Lucky we didn't start an autopsy right away like they suggested, being with how famous you are and all," the other one muttered and she couldn't believe how flippant they were being about this!

She stared at the man, blinking hard a few times, and then cried, "You were going to slice me up! Without even double-checking!"

"We _did _double-check! And you were dead! So it's quite miraculous that you're alive right now!"

She'd died? Horrified, she covered her mouth with a hand, at a loss for words. How could she have _died? _Further more, how could she be alive again? She looked down at herself, just to make sure that she was still in Vega's body. His brain was right there with her, like some almost pathetic whimpering. She didn't want to die, by any means. But his fear of it was so intense it almost paralyzed her. He never wanted to have to think about dying, which struck her as ironic, given his line of duty. He derived some sort of bizarre satisfaction in outliving the people he killed. There were a lot of risks inherent in his jobs too, which made her wonder how he could be so afraid of dying yet put himself in such risky positions anyway.

She groaned a little bit, heart still racing over the fact that she was almost autopsied alive. "Then maybe you should check some of your equipment!" How could they say she was dead when clearly she hadn't died?

"It doesn't take any equipment to see if somebody's dead, genius. You had no pulse. You were not breathing. Therefor, you were dead."

"How can I be dead if I'm plainly not!" she cried, throwing her arms out. The arguments went back and forth, until Cammy was finally fed up and conceded so as to get out of the creepy little building. She didn't want to have to be reminded about all of this anymore than she had to. After some paperwork-some very unsettling paperwork-she took back the things they'd found on her when she 'died', which really only amounted to the music player. Nothing had been reported by the coroners just yet, but she knew-or rather Vega's mind was telling her-that someone had likely blabbed about all of this and there were probably a variety of rumours going around about him already. And that was just a little frustrating.

She caught a cab back home. It was already ten o'clock. Had she really been out for that long? She changed quickly, and picked up the phone. A quick conversation with Chun-Li would help her feel a little better after all of the mess she'd just gotten into. Looking down at it, she was a little surprised to see several missed calls on it. Quite a few were from Bison, and she wondered why he would call, other than to let her know that they were ready to be switched back. Her heart skipped a beat, and she dialed quickly. "So, you _aren't _dead," Bison answered with a hint of humor in his voice.

"Why would you say that?" She wan't in the mood for games with him.

"You know how those websites get. Spot a celebrity matador being loaded into an ambulance, and well, he must be dead."

She groaned. This was going to be frustrating. She didn't want to deal with all of that right now! "Well I'm not dead, obviously!"

"Then you'll be delighted to know that you will be able to return to your body within the week," Bison said.

The anxiety and irritation was replaced with joy. "Really! Thank God! I'm so tired of this! Being watched by everybody, having such a strict diet, these bollocks flopping around everywhere-"

"That's more than I needed to hear," Bison said with a sigh.

"You want to talk about hearing more than you should?" Cammy said. Who did he think he was, saying something like that? "Try having somebody else's brain for a couple of weeks!"

"At any rate," Bison said, "you must make whatever arrangements necessary to return to Shadaloo, and then we will get on with the procedure."

"I have to go back to Shadaloo?" she asked.

"Yes," Bison confirmed.

"I simply can't do that," Cammy said. "I'm not an idiot. I know what you're going to do."

"A remote switch of your souls has already been attempted. It was not successful. This leads me to believe that we must do the reversal within the base," he explained.

"That can't be true," Cammy protested. "How did we switch to begin with if you can't do it remotely?"

"It's being investigated. But we have no way to replicate what occurred. The two of you must come back here."

"Maybe I refuse," she said. "Maybe I won't do it."

"If you do not come to Shadaloo, then I will take you there by force. I am not going to lose one of my top-ranking officials out of your own paranoia," Bison said.

"And I'm not going to lose my entire life because of this! You'll turn me right back into what I was before! Once I go in, I know there's no way to get back out!"

"I don't have time to argue this with you," Bison said. "Either by your own will, or against it, you will come back to Shadaloo." And that was the end of the conversation. She stared for a second, trying to figure out a way to do this without being captured by Bison. Without being turned back into a number. But it seemed very hopeless. If she went in, even with the help of others, she didn't have any way out. Bison would make sure of it. Fighting against Shadaloo operations was never done at their base itself, because any attempts in history to ever try this were crushed quite quickly.

Then it struck her. There was only one person who could contend against the might of Bison, and she would have to find a way to enlist her help.

* * *

_"Hold it right there! Freeze!"_

_He keeps running, doesn't he understand to stop? This is just making him look worse! He's quick, but I can keep up. The others have already fallen behind, but I'm not afraid to press on alone. No weirdo in a mask is going to get the better of me, that's for sure! At any rate, that fence up ahead will stop him from getting out-_

_Maybe not! He jumps, plants his feet into the building to the right, jumps off of that, clings to the fence and vaults right over like its nothing. No hesitation for the coils of razor wire running along the top. So I have to be the same, and I don't hesitate either. He's still ahead of me, but I keep running. "Stop, now!" I scream to him, but he doesn't slow down at all, doesn't even look over his shoulder. We're running for what feels like forever, until finally, he miscalculates a turn, and ends up in a narrow alley with no way out the other side. He looks around, not even acknowledging me, seeking a way out of this trap, but he's too late and I slam right into him. "Are you going to stop now?" I hiss in his masked face. I can see his eyes through the slits, not at all frightened or nervous of me. I have my arm resting heavily against his chest, handful of his black shirt, the other holding the wrist mounted with a terrifying claw against the brick wall behind him. I'm a good few inches shorter, and probably don't intimidate him at all, but he doesn't know me very well. He doesn't fight back, which is strange to me. _

_"And here I thought Shadaloo was a little more careful than this," I say, keeping a strong hold on him. He could try to overpower me, but he isn't. This makes me nervous-does he have back up? I can't properly apprehend him until the others get here, so I can be sure I won't lose him. _

_"You don't have me yet, bumblebee," he says, and I stare at him. Bumblebee? Why would he call me that? Why does that name-_

_I pull him away from the wall only to shove him against it again, an act of intimidation. "You keep your mouth shut!"_

_"Have I touched a nerve?"_

_I grit my teeth, resisting the urge to hurt him, to punch him right in the face because of how he's making me feel. Confused and uncertain. Roughing him up would be a bad idea. But if he hits me first-_

_I think quickly. What would piss him off most? And it's literally right in front of my face-the mask. "Why do you have to hide your face? Are you a coward, or just that ugly?" I bring one hand up, fingers sliding under it at the chin, and he finally starts to struggle, but I yank it off quick so as to not give him a chance. _

_And he's not ugly at all. He's...much too pretty for this sort of thing. I'm taken off guard, and he shoves me away, taking the mask back in the process. He pulls it back down, and says, "Don't come after Shadaloo, bumblebee. You won't get a second chance."_

_Second chance? Is he trying to threaten me? Before I can react, he's found his escape, jumping from a garbage can to a fire escape ladder, and he disappears over the wall. That man, he knows something about me, about my past. I have to find out what. I follow the path he took, but when I reach the top of the wall, he's already gone. I clench my fists tightly, furious that I let him get away, and I wonder if I'll ever see him again._

When he finally moved again, Chun-Li noticed quickly, just in case that movement meant some sort of attack. She couldn't trust him, especially in Cammy's body. He could very easily try to deceive her, make her think it was her friend she was talking to. She saw him roll onto his side, eyes fluttering open and adjusting to their surroundings. "Are you okay?" she asked tentatively. She was more worried about Cammy's body than him, really.

"What happened?" he asked.

"Bison says he tried to switch you and Cammy back, but it didn't work out, obviously," she answered. Then she paused, not wanting to admit to the next part. "You two have to go back to Shadaloo."

The words echoed through his mind, and he could feel Cammy's brain panicking at the thought. Shadaloo was prison. Shadaloo was the death of self. Shadaloo meant being a faceless number. A killer. He squeezed his eyes shut to clear the panic, and inhaled slowly, going over their options. "That would not be viable for her," he said.

Chun-Li was a little startled. Was he expressing that he cared for someone other than himself? That couldn't be it. Either Cammy's mind was getting the better of him, or he was concerned that Cammy wouldn't return his body to Shadaloo. "Then how else can we fix you two?"

"Bison will take her there by force, most likely," Vega said. It was depressing to think about, but he knew from experience that no matter how hard you tried to hide from Bison, if he wanted you badly enough, he found you. He'd never hidden from the man himself, personally, but had been the hound who dragged his master's prey back, regardless of how hard they fought. Some had hired teams of protectors. Others thought that if they kept beneath the radar, they'd be safe among large populations. Others still thought that if they disappeared into small towns or other rural or undeveloped places, they'd never be found. But no one, in Vega's experience on the job, had ever gotten away. Cammy wouldn't be any exception. "There isn't a way to stop that from happening."

"There is _always _a way," Chun-Li said, shaking her head. "We just have to think hard about this."

Vega rolled his eyes, annoyed with her naive optimism. "You aren't understanding this," he said. "There is no way to stop it. You can hide her, he'll find her. You can send her away to the middle of nowhere, change her name, give her an entire new identity, and he will find her. You can send a dozen soldiers in there with her to protect her, and still, he will kill them and keep her there."

"I'm not letting him get away with this. We'll find a way to make it work."

Before their argument could continue, Cammy's phone began to ring. Both of their eyes settled on it, and after a moment's hesitation, Vega picked it up. It was his own number, and he answered it. "Are you alright?" he asked quickly.

"Well, other than waking up in a coroner's office, yes," she answered with a sigh.

"What?" he cried.

"They thought I was _dead_," Cammy said. "It was pretty scary but um..." She hesitated, unsure if he would be happy with what she was about to suggest. "You know about...having to go back to Shadaloo?"

He sighed, suppressing a comment about how he would never sound so insecure, but let her continue.

"I just thought, maybe we should talk to Rose before we settle on going back there," she explained. "I don't know if...I don't want..."

"Spit it out," he snapped, irritated with how pathetic she was making him sound.

"I don't want to go back to being a Doll," she said finally, with such despair in her voice that he almost felt guilty about being short with her.

"If you really want to see her, then we'll do that," he conceded with a shrug. "But-" He stopped himself, realizing that it wouldn't help matters any to tell her how hopeless it was. Rose wouldn't be able to fix them. And she wouldn't be able to save Cammy, either. "We can go there tomorrow." The conversation wrapped up with final arrangements, and he glanced over at Chun-Li. "There's very little we can do."

"I'm not letting this happen to her," she said.

Vega smirked, a little hopeless about the situation as well. "For once, _coneja, _I agree with your sentiments."


	14. Chapter 14

"This is an awful mess," Cammy said quietly, covering her face with her hands. She'd expressed this and similar sentiments so many times in the past few hours that she'd lost count. It was incredulous to begin with, but now it just seemed entirely hopeless. Her life was over, as she knew it, and she was passing irritation, quickly approaching outright depression. It was a reasonable response to such a situation, and she didn't know what else to do. She glanced over at Chun-Li, who was at the wheel of the rental car. "Have we come up with any contingency plans in case Rose can't help?"

"Rose won't be able to do anything for you," Vega said.

Cammy gritted her teeth. "Why have you got to be so negative!"

"I don't want to give you hope that isn't there," he said, crossing his arms and turning his eyes to the window.

"That's easy for you to say when it isn't your life being threatened!" Her stomach was in knots, and she felt jittery, unable to sit still. She'd never been in a more compromising position. All options seemed to lead to problems-she either remained as she was in Vega's body, and spent the rest of her life slowly melding into him, or she went back to Shadaloo and returned to life as a Doll. She wasn't sure which was worse. Both options led to her becoming a murderer. "Why does this have to be so hopeless," she whispered, clenching her fists.

Vega frowned, looking back over at her. He wasn't sure that anything could be done either. He didn't want this to happen any more than she did. But he couldn't think of a way to prevent it. And would Bison let him near her after what he'd done last time? The thought sickened him, her ending up a Doll again, but this time, left under someone else's care. Someone who would never treat her like she should be treated. But he knew how Bison operated, and when a person failed at something, he did not give them a second chance. He wasn't sure how he got so lucky to still be alive after sparing Cammy, but was grateful at least.

"I'm sure Rose can help," Chun-Li said, shaking her head. "Don't listen to him."

Vega drew his brows together. 'Don't listen to him'. Didn't she think if he knew a way to help Cammy that he would go through with it, do everything within his power to assure that she got out of this safely? Hadn't she realized he'd risked so much for her the first time? But neither of them knew that. Cammy learned, little by little, that he had some interest in her, that he had helped her to become self-aware, but did she realize that was by design and not just a happy accident?

"Right," Cammy said, inhaling deeply and trying to stay calm. She looked back at Vega, who seemed lost in thought. She turned her eyes to the road ahead of them, focusing on the music playing in an effort to think about anything else than what this day might bring. Violins were reaching a mournful crescendo. It didn't work as a very good distraction, the haunting voice only serving to depress her further. The ride was long and tense, each lost in their own thoughts concerning the complex conditions of the situation. When they finally reached their destination, Cammy thought she would be sick from anxiety. The only hope she had, it seemed, was this woman, and if she said she couldn't help-

She didn't want to think about it as she got out of the car on shaking legs. No sense in being presumptuous. It would only serve to make things worse. She tried not to think about what would happen, but was failing miserably at it.

As usual, Rose was already at the door waiting for them. "It isn't at all unsettling when you do that," Vega said, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm simply trying to be a polite host," she said, crossing her arms. "Please, come inside." They did, Cammy and Chun-Li getting comfortable without question while Vega stood by the door, unsure of what to do. He didn't like being here. He didn't like being around Rose, didn't like that she could peek into their minds, know what they were feeling. Cammy and Chun-Li didn't seem to mind that at all, and he couldn't understand why.

Cammy was too anxious to wait around for Rose to ask what the problem was, and got right down to the heart of the matter. She explained everything, so nervous about it that she spoke very quickly, as if the opportunity for help would disappear if she didn't say it fast enough. Rose listened patiently, understanding Cammy's fear over the matter. She knew most of what was coming already-knew that someone was going to have to make a very important choice to decide the outcome of the issue. Now she had the specifics, and as much as it pained her to have to tell Cammy this, she knew it would do her no good to lie. "There is, unfortunately, little I can do for either of you."

Cammy sighed and tangled her fingers in her hair. Why was this becoming more and more hopeless by the minute? "What am I supposed to do?" she asked helplessly, shaking her head and turning desperate eyes to Rose. "I can't go back there. You know what he'll do!"

Rose shook her head. "You have escaped that place once before. It is yet possible you may do so again."

"But I had your help," Cammy said. "Will you-"

"_Her _help?" Vega cried suddenly, breaking his silence, and pointing at Rose. "You had _her _help?"

"Calm down," Rose said, holding up a hand. "I can explain."

"Explain what?" Cammy asked, confused about the problem. Rose had saved her from Shadaloo, erased the Doll programming from her mind, and left her at the British Embassy to start a new life. She couldn't remember any of that, and thought maybe that was for the better.

Vega laughed bitterly and shook his head. "You know, I risked _my _life getting you away from Bison?" he said. "He could've killed me, melted my brain and let it leak out of my ears!"

"Stop, now, Vega," Rose demanded.

"No, I'm the one that chanced everything to save her, so that she could have a _normal _life, and you lied!"

"I find that hard to believe," Chun-Li muttered. When it came down to it, it did seem highly unlikely. After all, someone was lying here-either Rose or Vega, and she had reason to trust the former much, much more than the latter.

"It was better this way," Rose said gently, understanding his frustrations. But they couldn't get anywhere if he wouldn't let her speak. "Please, calm down, and I'm sure you'll agree with my reasoning."

"I'm perfectly aware of your reasoning," Vega retorted venomously. "I'm the 'bad' guy. Therefore, I am unable to do 'good' things. It's easier to hate me when I've done nothing good."

"You have much to answer for," Rose said, a little more sternly. "Don't be self-righteous for the few good things you've done."

"I want to know what's going on," Cammy put in finally, still quite confused. Her eyes shifted from her own body, held tense and rigid by Vega's anger, to Rose's more matronly and placid facade. "Please? This is my life we're talking about. And I want to know how it started."

"You want to know how it started?" Vega echoed, laughing again. The laugh was bizarre and unheard of coming from Cammy. It was slightly deranged, clearly belonging to someone a little off-kilter, and Chun-Li winced. It was just like Bison had said. "It started in a petri dish in Thailand. How's that for a start?"

"Stop it," Cammy whispered, plainly hurt. She crossed her arms tightly, eyes finding the ground much easier to look at than any of their faces, especially her own. She felt someone touch her shoulder, and a sideways glance told her it was Chun-Li. She did feel admittedly strange trying to comfort what appeared to be Vega, but she told herself underneath it was her friend, and she was upset.

But the real Vega would have none of it. "_Don't _touch me!" Vega shouted, grabbing Chun-Li by the wrist and pulling her away.

Chun-Li wrenched her arm from his, and cried, "What is wrong with you?"

"Enough," Rose said with an air of finality. Vega took a step back against his will, struggling against Rose, but to no avail. He knew from his time dealing with Bison that it was impossible to break their telekinetic holds. "If you aren't willing to remain calm, I'll be forced into taking more extreme measures in order to ensure your cooperation."

He glared at her, but remained silent. She let him go.

"Cammy." The person in question looked up when she was spoken to. Blue eyes displayed a mixture of confusion and sorrow as she listened to her friend speak. "It is true that I haven't told you the truth. I did not take you from Shadaloo." This did strike both Cammy and Chun-Li as surprising. Of all people in the world, they hadn't expected Rose to be the one to tell a lie. But Cammy noticed Vega's mind was not at all surprised.

_It always seems to rain at the worst possible times and it's been hell getting her this far, but it's worth it. I'm drenched, she is too, but still completely unaware that anything has changed, that her entire life is going to be turned around if this all goes well and Rose better not be doing anything to wrong her..._

_She's already waiting for me, and I should've known that she'd know. But even then, she still looks surprised, and I feel accomplished for achieving that much. "Why are you here, little boy?" she asks as I approach, eyes on the person-yes, person, she's a person-in my arms. I shift her weight slightly, carrying her is starting to tire me out. But it's worth it. She'll be better soon. It's worth it._

Cammy rubbed her eyes, trying to dispel the memory and focus on Rose's words. "You were a Doll, but you were made by him."

_"Attention," Enero intones. Bison's on the floor, snap to rigid stance, like this is actually a military or something. Whatever-his rules._

"Today," he says once we're all at attention. There is someone new with him and I stare and I can't stop myself. "You are receiving a new addition to your ranks. You can call her Killer Bee."

_I'm glaring at him, because he knows what he did. I never gave him permission. At least Decapre, as revolting as she was, never shows her face. But this one-I would have to see this one. He'd make sure of it._

_"Is there a problem, Commander?"_

_"No, sir." Manipulative is the only word I have to describe him for this. I don't think I'll ever forgive him. But he doesn't care about that, anyway._

Cammy squeezed her eyes shut, held a hand to her head. Why was she remembering all of this? It felt like too much at once, and she tried to focus on Rose's voice, to ground herself in the present. "But you began to...'malfunction', as he considered it. You became self-aware."

_"What was that, Killer Bee?" he demans, and I feel like a child who has been caught in the middle of a misdeed, except this parent killed for infractions so severe. Didn't she understand she couldn't say this?_

_"I do not wish to remain alone anymore. I submit a request for a bunkmate."_

_I can feel Bison's eyes on me, he isn't an idiot and won't fool himself for a second in believing anyone other than myself has influenced her thinking, has told her what it is to be lonely or to want for something. "Killer Bee, you do not understand loneliness."_

_"I feel..."_

_"You do not."_

_"I feel despair here."_

_He seizes me by the throat with one swift movement and my feet aren't touching the ground anymore and shit, this is it, I'm going to die, I can see it, his eyes getting white, that crackle of purple around his fingers as he charges a devastating attack and I don't even have the mind to beg-_

_"Permission to request that you desist in this punishment? Commander Vega is my friend, sir, and I can not ascertain the nature of his infraction," Killer Bee intones at the sight. _

_"Denied." She's just making it worse. The pain is intense and brief and there's another as I hit the ground. I gasp for breath, senses clouding, and I hear him say, "You have no friends, Killer Bee. You do not need them. Perhaps it is time for some re-education." I utter a pathetic cry and glimpse the beginnings of sadness in her eyes for the first time ever as she looks down at me, curled up on the floor, a mess. I can fix it. If he doesn't kill me for this, we can finish what we started._

"When you finally broke away and became completely self-aware, Bison ordered you to be destroyed."

_"You are the reason for this mess. You are expected to clean it up." __I can't look him in the eye as I accept his orders. I salute him, and as I leave, he adds, "Do not come back a failure." My stomach is in knots, and could I bring myself to kill her?_

"But your would-be assassin disregarded those orders. When you returned to Shadaloo, it was to earn your freedom."

_It seems like suicide to help her do this, but maybe he won't find out and oh, I can't pretend to be that stupid. She just wants to be free, and surely she deserves that much? "I'll show you where it is," I say finally and I lead her to the psycho drive and I can't believe I'm doing this._

_She can use this thing because she's a copy of him, but the way she screams when she activates it, I can't take it. It suddenly stops, she practically falls out of the psycho drive, she's whispering again and again, "Free, free, you're all free." But for how long? There's an explosion, somewhere close, the ground shakes. We can't stay here, but where do we go?_

"Knowing Bison's death would not be permanent, he knew you wouldn't be safe for long. In his desperation, brought you to me."

_"I can't keep her from him. But you..." I couldn't finish the sentence, couldn't stand to admit that I was putting my trust in her._

_"She'll be safe, now."_

Cammy shook her head one more time, hoping to stop the memories from continuing their march to the forefront of Vega's mind. It was too much at once. Could someone she abhorred so much really be the reason she was still alive today? The very reason she had escaped a life that she'd thought he willingly created for her? "This is..." she started, but had no words to finish the sentence.

"Very surprising," Chun-Li finished, glancing at Vega. She thought he would be the last person on the planet to risk his neck for anyone else. After all, was there anyone he loved more than himself?

"Why did you lie to me, Rose?" Cammy asked, a little disappointed. But surely if Rose did it, there was a reason. She was the sort who always tried to see the good in people. Why would Vega be an exception? Why would she try to tarnish his image for her? Any more than he had already, at least.

"To protect you," Rose replied.

"Bullshit," Vega said.

"I could not risk her becoming curious about you," she explained, shaking her head at his outburst. "I could not take the chance that she would try to find you herself. Where do you think that search would take her?"

"Right back to Bison," Chun-Li concluded with a nod.

"So I erased what little memory she had of you after she gained consciousness. I told her that I saved her from that life. I did not want to see her harmed any more than you," Rose explained.

He could see her reasoning, but didn't want to. It wasn't fair to him that Cammy began her new life without knowing who helped create it. He hated that when finally they met again, she recognized his association with Shadaloo and immediately regarded him as an enemy. But she never knew, until now, that he'd been the entire reason she'd ever gotten free to begin with.

"Well, what a beautiful story." All eyes turned around to find the source of the voice.

Cammy jumped up immediately at the sight of the man seated on the couch, leaning against the armrest and watching them all with an amused smile. "Why are you here?" she asked. She knew he had a lot of dirty tricks, but this was the one she hated the most.

"I had an inkling that you might seek her help. So I've taken it upon myself to see you back home, personally." Bison was frustratingly insightful, and it made her feel even more trapped to know he could anticipate her next course of action so accurately. She wondered how long he'd been waiting for them to get to Italy, for them to find their way to Rose so he could pop in and ruin all hope she had of remaining normal.

"That's a prison," Cammy said.

"At first, maybe. But I think with a little convincing, you'll grow to find it accommodating enough."

"Don't think for a second you'll get away with this," Chun-Li said.

"What will you do? Storm Shadaloo yourself? For one girl? You wouldn't make it three steps before you were shot dead."

Cammy gritted her teeth in frustration, then turned frantically to Rose. "What do we do?"

But she looked passive. "I'm afraid there is little we can do."

"No, there has to be a way out of this!"

"Not for you, Killer Bee."

"Don't call me that," she said in as threatening a voice as she could, curling her hands into fists at her sides. She thought about trying to fight him. But she knew she didn't stand a chance.

"You'll get used to it again, soon enough." He turned his eyes to Vega. "And we won't have any problems with the programming this time, will we?"

Vega didn't respond, staring at the floor. Once again, he'd failed to protect the thing in his life he cared most about. Cammy cried out in frustration at his silent agreement. "Don't let him do this to me, Vega."

He clenched his jaw, staying quiet as Bison took her by the wrists. She writhed away from him, wrenching herself from his strong grasp. "Don't touch me, pig!" she shouted, assuming an offensive stance. Bison merely smirked, more amused than threatened. Chun-Li rushed to her friend's aid, but was easily deterred by Bison who seized her by the collar and shoved her to the ground. Cammy tried to fight against him, but he caught her fist before it even made contact with its target. Her arm was wrenched painfully behind her back. "Rose?" Cammy whimpered.

"It's the only way you can become yourself again, Cammy," she responded quietly, defeated. Bison was the only one who could reverse the process, as much as Cammy hated to hear it.

"But I won't _be _myself!" Cammy shouted back, terrified as Bison's grip tightened. Chun-Li rushed the man again, and his eyes grew white, telekinetic force shoving her back.

"I won't let you do this!" Chun-Li cried.

"Vega, help me!" Cammy pleaded desperately. Maybe it was futile, but if he'd helped her once before, surely he'd do it again? "Please! I know you don't want this to happen!" Vega's eyes shifted from the image of himself, terrified and desperate, to the powerful and threatening form of his leader. He couldn't disobey his orders again. Bison had overlooked his failure once, but he wasn't at all likely to extend such generosity a second time. "_Please!_" Cammy all but begged, jerking against Bison's grip. But Vega was at a loss. They were all trapped, and Bison knew it.

Bison laughed derisively, and shook his head. "A good dog knows better than to cross its master twice." Vega narrowed his eyes at the remark, but said nothing. He didn't want to chance a smart remark being used not against himself, but Cammy this time.

"_Stop!" _Cammy shouted just as something began to tickle the back of her neck. There was a sudden jolt, and she fell limp without another sound.

"What did you do to her?" Chun-Li cried, taking a step towards him. The purple crackling at the tips of his free fingers warded her off. She felt weak and useless, unable to defend her friend. He wrapped one arm around Cammy's waist, throwing her over his shoulder.

"I'm going to fix her," Bison answered with a malicious smile. He turned his eyes to Vega, and nodded to the door.

Vega followed him out of Rose's home. He threw a glance over his shoulder, and saw Chun-Li staring him down. She was furious, fists clenched at her sides, teeth gritted, and utterly helpless. He smirked. "Don't be so upset, sweetheart."

"This isn't over," she said.

"Who said it was?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. She continued to watch as he left after Bison. Chun-Li let out an enraged cry as she bolted after them, but when she finally caught up, they'd disappeared completely. She spun in a tight circle, searching for them. Bison's abilities had limitation, and she knew he had to be nearby.

"I won't stop until she's back!" she screamed, knowing they had to be close enough to hear her. "Don't think for a second that I'll ever give up on her!" Tears of frustration welled up in her eyes. Soft footsteps behind her caught her attention, and she sighed. "What do we do now, Rose? How do we get her out of Shadaloo?"

"We can't." Simple and to the point, and for once, Chun-Li wished it wasn't. She covered her face with her hands, and sobbed quietly, aching for her doomed friend.


	15. Chapter 15

_bad science ahead, beware!_

* * *

When she woke, she thought it would be as a mindless drone again. She was only partially delighted to learn that she was wrong. She was somewhere unfamiliar, laying in a cot, but when she turned her head to the side, she spotted Vega-in his own body again. She looked down at herself to make sure this was real, that everything had gone properly. She looked back over at him, and his eyes were open this time. They met for a brief second before he looked away, almost as if ashamed. There was a steady drone of beeps and other electronic noises in the background, men and women rushing to keep track of vital signs as the pair regained consciousness in their own bodies. They went largely ignored by both parties.

"Look at me," Cammy whispered to him, brows drawn together in defiance. He refused, and she hissed again, "No, _look _at me. You know what he's going to do, and you can help, or at least try!"

His eyes were difficult to read. He didn't say anything to her as he was approached by Bison and a pair of doctors. A few questions were answered with nods and shrugs, but Vega didn't seem to want to talk to anyone at all now.

"It appears the reason that this happened was the genetic similarities between the two of you."

_Genetic __similarities_. Cammy let the words roll around in her head for a second, and whispered, "What did you say?" She looked up at the man who'd been speaking, and everyone glanced her way.

"Pardon me?" the man asked. She looked at Bison, who seemed mildly amused by something, and Vega, who was so intently focused on rolling down his sleeves that one would receive the impression he was performing brain surgery and not adjusting his clothing.

"You said 'genetic similarities'. What do you mean by that?" she said in a low voice, heart racing. She knew she was intended to be a host body for Bison. That much had been revealed to her when she set out to save the other Dolls from Shadaloo. They weren't created, like she had been. They were otherwise normal girls who'd been kidnapped, and then brainwashed into cooperation. They'd received the same sort of 'programming' she had, but theirs was much more fragile-they had a past to still remind them of what they'd been. She had nothing like that. And while it had devastated her to learn that she was nothing more than a substitute body, a failsafe in the event of Bison's sudden death, she'd finally come to terms with it. Her friends were a great help in this, reassuring her that her genes didn't dictate her future, and that she was not inherently a bad person because of this. But now, her sense of self was being rattled yet again, and she just couldn't take it to be true.

The doctor looked to Bison for clearance. "You're really not very observant," Bison said. He looked over at the man beside him, and nodded. The man took this as a cue to depart, ushering out the other doctors with him.

"Don't," Vega said just barely above a whisper, shaking his head slowly and not daring to look at either of them.

But Bison wasn't about to listen to his request. He smirked as he looked down at Cammy, her expression somewhere between furious and mortified. "The problem, it seems, stems from your genetic similarities, as has been stated."

"What does that mean, exactly?" Cammy whispered in a shaking voice. She knew what it meant, but didn't want to face it.

"A person's soul is linked to its body via its DNA. Your genes are like an indicator, sort of like the lights on a runway to a landing aircraft. When we attempted to transfer Vega's consciousness to the machine, it was rejected, but the spirit was left so disoriented by the process, it did not return to its own body. Now, generally in the process of aural displacement, there is only one body the spirit can return to. But in the case of those with similar enough genes-say, siblings-the spirit could technically take up 'residence' in that body." He stopped, letting Cammy catch up with everything he was saying. It was amusing, as her facial expressions had not changed since he began speaking. "His soul forced yours from your body, which then took refuge in the only vessel available to it-his body. Vega's DNA was used in the process of creating you, which is why your souls can inhabit each other's bodies."

She stared. She didn't know what else to do. She didn't even want to do _that, _because she knew it was what he wanted. "No," she said simply, shaking her head. Wasn't it enough that she shared some DNA with Bison? Now the rest of it was apparently shared with Vega. She'd always clung to whatever half of her wasn't contributed from Bison being the part that had hope for a good and normal life. That she wouldn't turn out like him because not all of her was made from something terrible. But now, what did she have? Part megalomaniac, part psychotic killer-where did the _good _come in at? She turned her eyes to Vega. They shared some of the same genes. It was why she looked so little like Bison. And maybe that's the only reason Vega ever cared about her. Some misplaced affection to what could maybe be considered a family member.

"Didn't you ever wonder why you looked nothing like me?" Bison asked. He was just mocking her at this point, relishing in her surprise. Vega moved to leave, but Bison caught him by the wrist and shook his head. "No. You'll see how futile it is for you to continue to care for a person who _abhors _you. Maybe that will remedy your problem." Bison looked to Cammy, and smiled. "Isn't that right, Killer Bee? Just how disgusted were you to find that you're related to him?" She saw Vega wince, and she wanted to scream at them that she was horrified at what she might become one day because of them. That she might just be destined to be something terrible after all.

"Your future isn't dictated by your genes," she whispered. She had to remember that. Maybe it seemed hopeless, but she was her own person. Her life would be a result of her own choices.

"I'm afraid yours is, however," Bison responded. "You were created to be my substitute."

"No, I look more like him."

"My genes are there to ensure that the body properly wields and controls the psycho power."

"Why make me look like this?" Her voice was edging so closely towards hysteria. She had to get ahold of herself, couldn't give him the reaction he wanted.

"So similar to his mother?" Bison rephrased the question.

"Don't fucking do this," Vega uttered under his breath.

Cammy stared again, processing that information. She looked a bit like his mother. And was that why he cared so much about her? Did he even care about her as Cammy, or was he simply chasing a ghost? It was sad and pathetic all at once, and she wanted to tell him that. But she saw his face, how terribly upset he seemed at all of this, upset that she hated him, and she felt _guilty _for it. "I never asked for this," she reasoned, mostly to herself.

"Do you think I did?" Vega fumed. "You think I wanted to have to watch you walk around like a soulless shell of a human being? To see her in you and for you to not even know who I was? To not only have to watch you kill, but to be the one to teach you how to do it?"

"Vega..." He wouldn't look at her, refused completely. If he didn't acknowledge her pain, it would be easier to let her turn back into the very thing he had tried to save her from being. "Don't let them do this to me, please."

The muscles in his jaw clenched, but there was little other outward sign that he'd ever even heard her. Even Bison seemed to be anticipating his response to her pleas. So she tried something completely different. Something she wasn't sure would even work. She concentrated, trying to remember what little bits and pieces of his life she could, as fleeting as they were. "_Pollito, ayúdeme." _She said the words haltingly, uncertain they were even the right ones, if she was even saying them right.

Vega's eyes shot up, horror written in them, and Cammy felt her heart leap into her throat. Was it working? She'd gotten his attention with that, but how did she make him want to help? "That's enough," Bison said. "Get out." He took Vega by the arm and pushed him towards the door.

"Vega, don't leave me!" she cried and he stopped.

"Get out, now, Vega," Bison ordered in an icy tone. Vega looked from her to Bison, the inner struggle clear behind his eyes. But in the end, he knew the risks if he were to disobey Bison now. He turned away quickly, before he could give himself a chance to think twice. As he left, a trio of armed guards filed in. Cammy curled her fists and slammed them into the cot. She glared at the men in the room around her, knew what was waiting for her. They'd been given their orders not to harm her, but to treat her with caution. They were waiting to escort her to a temporary holding area, and then-

She didn't want to think that far ahead. There was no way she could let it happen. "On your feet." One of the men grabbed her by the arm and pulled her from the cot. She scowled, but complied, glaring at Bison.

"You won't get away with this," she said.

He smiled in response, and she wanted to punch his teeth out. "I think I already have." He waved at the men, and one opened the door while the other two each held her by an arm. She struggled as they all but dragged her out into the corridor, and she cried out in frustration. Vega, still in earshot, tried his best not to turn around to see what was happening to her.

"Make this easy on us, won't you?" one of the guards said, jerking on her arm. She kicked him hard in the chest and was immediately seized by one of the others, arms pulled behind her back. The remaining man had his assault rifle pointed in her direction. The man she'd kicked slapped her in the face, and growled, "Think twice about that, you bitch!"

He was very suddenly seized from behind, an arm around his neck and his own ka-bar pressed against his stomach, threatening to spill his guts onto the floor. "How would you like to eat your own entrails for dinner this evening?" The man was jerked back by his hair next, mouth falling open as he hissed in pain. The knife was pressed against his exposed throat, and Vega pulled the man's head back even further. "Or maybe you prefer your own jugular? Name a part, I'll put it on a plate for you."

"Commander," Bison snapped from the doorway. He should have known better. Vega still had too much of an attachment. He wouldn't be a particularly great loss as a teacher for her, but as a bodyguard, he'd been invaluable. No one in Shadaloo would care about the Doll in the way Vega had. While that had been Bison's intent, to make sure he did his best to protect her, he did not expect Vega to become as attached as he was, nor did he expect for his creation to be sabotaged altogether.

Vega curled his lip as he relinquished his grip on the man, resigned to glaring at the mouthy soldier instead. "A beautiful lady is always to be treated with respect, correct?"

The man swallowed hard, casting a wayward glance at his superior. His very violent, very unstable, superior. "Yes, sir, Commander."

Cammy met Vega's eyes, and pleaded with him silently to help save her. But they parted ways without further incident. Bison followed after him, ensuring that no more problems would occur. The hall she was led down was bland and boring, worse than any hospital. At least hospitals had wallpaper, and sometimes art. This was just mind-numbing. "Jesus, does he get a stick up his ass about _everything?_" one of the men said on an exhale. Cammy didn't miss that he checked over his shoulder before vocalizing his opinion first.

"Maybe he thinks he can get laid before Bison brainwashes the chick," one of the other men suggested with a grin, speaking as if Cammy wasn't present to hear his remarks.

"We're practically _siblings _you sodding moron," Cammy said, struggling again briefly but accomplishing nothing.

"Then he's crazier than I thought," the man said with a laugh.

She growled, unable to express much irritation otherwise. She wasn't sure _why _she was irritated. What did she care what they thought of Vega? But their behavior annoyed her They were insulting him, mocking him, but they were terrified of him. "You're all three cowards," she said. "I'd like to see you say any of that to his face."

"If Bison didn't want you in pristine condition, I'd put another scar on that face to match the one you've already got," one of them threatened.

"And I'd like to see what he does to you in return," Cammy replied. "Or I bet you're too afraid of someone else."

"You like to talk big about that asshole, but I don't see him doing you any favours now," the man responded viciously. She bit her tongue then. What could she say in return? The man was right. Vega had given up on her. The only hope she had of getting out of Shadaloo with her conscience still in tact knew of her plight, and walked the other way.

* * *

_i want to thank francyspai here-she had this idea of vega and cammy sharing genes, and i think it's fantastic, so i want to give credit where it's due!_

it's been pointed out to me(a few times haha), apparently, that idea is basically cribbed from/quite similar to some anime called neon genesis evangelion. just an fyi to save you a PM about it. thanks though :)


	16. Chapter 16

Waiting was the worst part. Knowing that something awful was creeping towards you, only you didn't know when it would finally come. It was one of the worst feelings Cammy could think of. She'd been pacing the small room for a while, though she couldn't be sure exactly how long it'd been. She didn't have her phone, a watch, anything to keep track of time with. There weren't even windows in here. It felt late, but then, that was just an assumption.

Where was Rose? Chun-Li? Vega wasn't coming, she'd decided some time ago. That much was obvious, or surely he would have been here by now. There was no telling when Bison would erase her mind again, and surely if Vega _did _care about her, he would've come for her as soon as possible. But it must've at least been over an hour since she'd been deposited here. So she'd given up on waiting for him. Rose and Chun-Li, though, they were still viable hopes. Chun-Li had probably come up with a plan soon after Bison had left. And Rose would help, right? She frowned as she thought of how Rose had said this was the only way for her to be herself again. How she couldn't do anything to save her.

Food had been supplied for her, but she refused it. She would do so as long as she still had control over her own mind. It could have easily been contaminated, and she didn't want to give Bison the satisfaction of her eating out of his hands anyway. Since the food had been brought to her awhile ago-long enough for it to have since gotten cold-she hadn't seen anyone. The man who brought it was middle-aged, looked quite bored, or maybe tired. She couldn't be certain which one it was. He wasn't dressed in the uniform of the troops or guards, but he wasn't dressed like one of the doctors or scientists either. The guards wore armored vests, with helmets that looked more like something a motorcyclist would wear, so prisoners couldn't identify their captors. This man was casually clothed, which seemed out of place. Were there people that worked here who weren't either soldiers or scientists? Then, she supposed, someone had had to cook the food. Someone probably had to wash dishes too. Bison wouldn't waste such menial tasks on people developing weapons and biological agents for him, she supposed. How many people here weren't actively contributing to the more horrible things Shadaloo had done? How many were just desperate people in search of money? And how many were coerced into their work? She thought of the other Dolls, who had been freed from that life with her help some time ago. Were there others here with similar problems? People who had just been kidnapped from their homes, turned into drones. Like she would be soon.

She bit her lip, trying not to think about that. She'd already searched for any way out of the room, and there was at least two people posted outside the door should she escape. The vents were too high for her to reach, and even if she could get to them, they were quite small. She wasn't a large person, but she knew she couldn't fit into the vent to crawl out of the building. There were no windows at all, so that wasn't an option either. She'd crawled along the floor looking for loose tiles, but came up with nothing, and ran her fingers along the smooth walls. It was a long shot, but she felt that if she was trying, then at least she was spending her last moments in a worthwhile manner. The door, it seemed, was the only way out. She pressed her ear against it again, as she had several times since she'd been deposited into the room. She heard someone shifting their weight, clothes rustling. She heard a man speaking. It was all in Russian, and she couldn't understand it. There were two of them out there, from what she could gather, which made her odds of escaping even slimmer. As great a fighter as she was, she didn't have much chance of getting farther than opening the door before she was shot at. In an open area, or a larger room, she could take them, easily. But she knew, the second the door opened and alerted them to her presence, they'd have her. She could back into the little room to avoid them, and they would quite simply close the door on her again.

In a frustrated rage, she cried out, and kicked the tray of food that had been supplied for her. The plastic bowl-because Bison knew better than to give her any metal-smashed into the wall, spilling its contents onto the floor. It rattled noisily as it fell, spinning on its rim until it finally settled upside down on the floor. The whole room smelled like lo mein. The fork-because a plastic fork was less lethal in her hands than plastic, or even wooden, chopsticks-was buried by noodles and vegetables. The men outside hadn't even paused to listen. They'd probably been ordered to not pay any attention to her, unless she somehow got the door open, of course. This irritated her even more, for some reason. It was as if she wasn't even here. Gritting her teeth, she turned around, and planted a foot in the door. It rattled, but again, the men didn't pay attention. "Tell me what time it is!" she shouted loudly. They didn't answer. "Come on, answer me!" Did they even speak English? She kicked the door once more, then again, and gave up.

That feeling was eating away at her insides. She couldn't stand it. Not knowing. Where did that leave her? She dropped down onto the bed, and covered her face with her hands. She didn't know how to take her mind off of it. Food was not an option. She just simply didn't want it, never mind all the other reasons there were to not eat it. She had no way to entertain herself-there was nothing here but the bed she was laying on. She tapped the toe of her boot against the wall in a steady rhythm. They were her hiking boots, not her combat boots. Those two pairs of shoes were the only ones she had. She didn't really see an extensive wardrobe as necessary, though even she could admit she needed to invest in some 'nice' shoes. Something a little more feminine, maybe. It must've driven Vega crazy, she thought, to have to dress in something that wasn't very stylish. It felt like it'd been years since she was trapped in his body. It was the strangest experience of her life, and she doubted if anything would ever top it. In a weird way, she was starting to miss it, though she was certain it had to do with her current and desperate situation. At least then, she wasn't so alone.

But then, his brain had been a little scary sometimes. She wondered for a few seconds how he would react to being in such a situation-trapped, alone, no way out, desperate. She decided she couldn't be sure what he would do if he were in her place. She sighed quietly, staring up at the ceiling. Keeping calm was the best idea right now. Maybe, she thought, an opportunity would present itself to her. Or maybe, Chun-Li would come with help.

"I read the news today, oh boy..." she muttered quietly. She wasn't very good at singing, but she wanted to think about something else, needed a distraction. She glanced at the door. It was probably very annoying of her to keep going. Maybe they'd pay attention to that. "About a lucky man who made the grade!" she cried louder. Had the speaking stopped? "And though the news was rather sad!" she yowled like a sick cat. The door handle was rattling. Her heart raced. Were they going to come in here and try to get her to be quiet? Maybe this was her chance. "Well I just had to laugh!" she crowed, completely out of tune. The door opened, and one of the uniformed men stepped in. She tensed a little, ready for a fight. "_I saw the photogra-a-aph!" _She was all but screaming it now, and the man stopped a few feet from the bed, M16 in his hands. Would he shoot? Maybe death was better than spending the rest of your life as a mindless killing machine.

"He blew his mind out in a car," the man responded in a conversational tone, voice muffled behind the helmet. He pushed the tinted visor up, and did she recognise those blue eyes and strands of blond hair? "He hadn't noticed that the lights had changed."

She smiled slowly, and said, "I sort of like that song."

"You can like it all you want, but I'd rather you didn't sing it."

She leaped to her feet and threw her arms around him, unsure, exactly, why. Maybe it was the relief. He'd come after all. When she thought he'd given up on her, he came back. There was a chance of escape now, and he had been kind enough to provide it for her. "I thought no one was coming," she whispered, hands moving to his shoulders and holding him at arms length.

He seemed uncomfortable, and shrugged. He didn't do so well with this sort of thing. That much was obvious from his current body language. He turned away from her, popping back into the corridor to drag the unconscious bodies of the two guards into the room. He pushed the first against the wall, and turned away again to retrieve the second. "Well we don't have much time. Your friends will be here soon, a few miles from the base." He propped the second guard against the cot, and nodded to the door.

Her heart leaped into her throat. Her friends hadn't given up on her? She felt a pang of guilt for her assumptions. He slung the assault rifle across his back, and took her by the wrist with one hand. "It's late. Most people are asleep by now, but you were up for...that procedure in half an hour. If anyone sees us, look upset. As far as you know, I was ordered to transport you to the lab." He pulled her hands behind her back, cuffing them together. She winced. They were a little tight, but she supposed handcuffs weren't exactly ever comfortable. "It's a bit of a walk, but if we can get out of Shadaloo without being spotted, we should be fine."

"How likely do you think it is that we won't be seen?" she asked, watching him turn around to lock the door. She could barely see his eyes now as he slid the tinted visor back down. The two men weren't dead, and couldn't be left in the hallway for everyone to see.

"Just keep your head down and look angry," he advised, pushing her gently down the hall. She did her best to comply. Her heart was racing, unsure of the last time she'd been this nervous. He kept one gloved hand on her shoulder, the other on his rifle. The corridors weren't narrow, and were still well lit. She supposed the lights never went off in here, given that it was where prisoners were kept. She wondered what other sort of people Bison kidnapped, or if most of them were simply his own employees serving time for some infraction or another. None of the other rooms had been guarded like hers. Were they empty, or were the people inside simply not considered as much of a threat?

She tensed up as she heard footsteps ahead of them. Keeping her head down, she glanced up, and saw another guard approaching. The men simply nodded to each other as they passed, and continued on without incident. Cammy closed her eyes briefly, hoping they wouldn't be passing by too many people on their way out of here. If she got that nervous over what was just another guard, she didn't know what they would do if they passed anyone with any kind of seniority. Or worse, Bison himself.

"Face the wall," Vega ordered, and she did so hesitantly. He let go of his weapon to slide some kind of identification card through a reader, and tapped at a few numbers on the keypad. There was a chime, and the reader blinked a green light as the door unlocked. He pushed it open, and took hold of her again. "Come on." They were in some security room now, and she thought she'd have a heart attack. There were four men in here, faces uncovered but dressed as guards, watching their computer monitors that displayed different areas of Shadaloo. She felt panicked, wanted to bolt, but Vega kept a firm grip on her shoulder. The men glanced up, and when Vega spoke, his Spanish accent gone from his voice. She supposed even with the slight distortion provided by the helmet, he didn't want to take any chances that one of them would recognize him. "Prisoner transfer," he stated simply.

One of the men picked up a clipboard, and asked, "Case number?" Vega rattled off a string of numbers, and the man jotted something down. Cammy glanced around at the monitors. "Identification?" The question brought Cammy's attention back to the man. Did Vega have any other than his own here? Surely if Bison thought he was a risk to the success of her brainwashing, he wouldn't allow Vega near her. But Vega readily handed the man a card, which the man inspected, cross-referencing the name on the ID with the one on his list. "All right, Officer Lehtonen...? I said that right?"

"I don't expect anybody to," Vega said with a shrug.

The man smirked and handed the card back over. Cammy caught a glimpse of it. Simo Lehtonen, aged twenty-five, blood type A positive, height: six foot even, weight: a hundred and fifty pounds. That was a lot of information for one ID, but she supposed Shadaloo didn't get to be so successful by cutting corners. The picture was of a dark-haired young man that didn't even look much like Vega. They left the room without any problems, but she didn't exactly feel very relieved. They weren't out of Shadaloo yet, but had passed by the first obstacle. Outside, the night air was warm. It was very quiet, except for the sounds from the jungle which surrounded the place. "Simo?" she whispered.

"I wasn't permitted any access to the holding area. Bison knew better than that," he whispered back. "So I made someone up, and he just happened to be assigned the duty of transferring you to the lab tonight."

"He wouldn't think that's suspicious, either?"

"As far as Bison, or those guards know, Simo Lehtonen has been working here for years."

"Crafty," Cammy whispered.

"Not exactly. If Bison notices that the registry has been updated recently, he'll figure out exactly what's going on," Vega said. "So we have to hurry."

"What will he do to you if he catches you?" she asked as they walked between buildings. They were pretty plain, looked like they could have a mess of cubicles in them instead of labs for developing weapons or drugs. For experimenting on humans and erasing minds.

"Don't worry about it," he replied. It was unusual of him, she thought, to downplay a risk this big. He seemed pretty upset with Rose for covering up what he had done for Cammy before, so it struck her as strange that he wasn't making a bigger deal out of it now. This made her wonder if the consequences could be so dire that even he didn't want to think about them.

"Will he kill you?" she asked.

He didn't answer. Cammy bit her lip as the tall fence which surrounded the perimeter of Shadaloo came into view. He was risking his life for her. She couldn't be completely sure of that, but given that Vega hadn't responded to the question, it seemed likely. She didn't want somebody to die because of her. How could she say she was worth more than someone else? But then, he had harmed so many people. "I don't want you to die over me," she said finally. Even if he was a killer, even if he was highly disturbed, she couldn't say anyone deserved to die. And if she could make him care about something other than himself, could she convince him to give up his lifestyle altogether? Maybe it was naive on her part to believe so, but she wanted to have hope.

"Then we'd better not be caught," he replied quietly. But he knew, even if he wasn't caught in the act, Bison would know. There wasn't any escaping the punishment, but she was worth it. Bison would know who'd gotten her free regardless of what measures he took to cover his tracks. Hiding his face, using a fake identification card, it was all to simply stall for time. So that she had a chance of getting away. He glanced around quickly, searching along the fence for any other guards. "We have to get further back," he said, nodding the direction they needed to go. The back of the compound would be the best place to jump the fence-it was not as well lit, and while it was surveyed as much as the rest of the borders, he knew that it was only by a few men who walked the length of the fence. If they could time it right, they would have a few minutes to slip out silently, and once they were in the jungle, they were as good as free.

They waited in the shadow of the building which housed most of the vehicles, and he watched the perimeter intently. His ears strained to hear any footsteps, and Cammy tensed up when she saw an armed guard walking along the fence, cigarette in his mouth. The man leaned back for a minute before taking another drag and exhaling a cloud of smoke. His eyes traveled lazily over the area, and he kept walking. Cammy and Vega waited a few painful, tense minutes, staying there as long as was necessary for the area they were headed to be obscured from the guard's line of sight. "Ready?" he whispered. She nodded, anxiety taking hold of her. They didn't run, but walked calmly. Running was a good way to attract attention.

The fence was tall, Cammy realized. Much too tall for even herself or Vega to jump, and they were both light on their feet. She felt the metal cuffs slide off of her wrists, and Vega dropped them, no longer needing them. She started climbing the fence beside him, doing her best to do it quietly, but it was difficult. The noise her feet made as the toes of her boots wedged into the chain link seemed monstrous in the quiet, tense night, but she didn't stop. Neither did he, until he reached the razor wire bundles coiled along the top of the fence like a snake with blades for scales. With one hand on the fence, he used his other to pull a tool from his belt. Wire cutters, she noticed, and he started snipping away part of the razor wire. He didn't get very far before he heard frantic shouting, and dropped the tool altogether. "Go!" he shouted, grabbing her shirt and urging her upward. She gasped as she felt him pushing her over the top, felt something bite at her skin, and then suddenly she dropped to the ground on the other side of the fence. She inspected her arm, saw a little bit of blood. The razor had mostly cut at her clothing, not her skin, and she was lucky. There was a quiet thud, and she saw him land gracefully next to her. He pulled her to her feet, and they disappeared into the jungle, running for their lives.


	17. Chapter 17

"Don't pout. It isn't very becoming of you."

Vega pressed his lips together at Bison's mockery. He didn't care how he looked right now. For the first time in awhile, it wasn't about making sure he was impeccable, needing attention and compliments like a dying man needs air. He was much too upset by Bison to want to hear anything from him at all. With Cammy trapped in a cell, waiting for her mind to be rebooted into Doll programming, he had something else on his plate to worry about for once. He couldn't beg for her life. Even if Bison wanted to hear it, he knew it would get him nowhere. He didn't even look at the man as they walked through the corridor out of the building.

"I don't recall you being quite so upset over Decapre."

"Decapre is a soulless _monster. _Don't ever compare her to Cammy," he said. He didn't care for saving Decapre because she was quite simply an abomination that didn't even _want _to be saved.

"Well, then you two should get along swimmingly," Bison replied.

"I am not a monster," Vega said heatedly, glaring at his superior and wanting very much to carve up his face-

He shook his head, frowning. Those sorts of thoughts weren't ones normal people tended to have. And Cammy, her brain had been outright repulsed by him for having them. Hearing Bison chuckle brought his attention back to his surroundings, and he knew what was going on. Bison could hear what he was thinking. Not exactly in words, but a vague sense of realization was emanating from the younger man, and Bison was able to put two and two together well enough. "You stay out of my head," Vega demanded, clenching his fists at his side.

A hand shot out, grabbing him by the jaw, and Bison stared him down, much to the discomfort of Vega. "Is there a shred of humanity in there?" Bison asked, eyes turned to white peering into angry blue. "Is there something in there that makes you less of a monster?" A chaotic mix of heated emotions radiated from Vega. "The only place you matter in this world is _here_. The only place you're really, truly able to be who you are...is here. When you're channeling your instability into destroying lives on behalf of this organization, that is the _only_ time you've ever done something worthwhile with your broken, pathetic excuse for a life." Bison let go and shook his head as he continued, "So stop it. Stop trying to tell yourself you're anything more than an animal. Stop pretending that somehow, you could have made her care about something as despicable as you, and go back to what you do best."

Vega blinked, not meeting the man's eyes. The words were sharp, piercing, honest. Was he really so horrible? He couldn't be. No, he had to be perfect, after all, so his words couldn't be true. How could he respond? What did he say? Bison had treated him fairly well, though the occasional reprimand was not unheard of, but he'd never been talked to quite like that before. "What is it that I do best, then?" he asked in a voice barely above a whisper. Bison had compared him to a dog, and now he truly felt like it, averting his eyes to show his submission.

"Destroy. You're only at your best when you destroy."

The corners of his lips twitched up, and he raised his eyebrows. He almost had to laugh at the irony of it all. Bison wanted him to destroy things? He could do that, most certainly. Then, he did laugh, and Bison was surprised by that reaction. Though, given Vega's tenuous grip on sanity, it shouldn't have caught him off guard. "Affirmative, General Bison," Vega said around his laughter as he snapped into a rigid stance and gave a mock salute. Then, he walked away from the man, still laughing to himself. He had some things to attend to which had to be done as quickly as possible.

His residence in Shadaloo was a room in one of the buildings in the living area. The superior officers who were allowed to leave on a regular basis all had rooms here, away from the infantry, or other employees of lower status. There was more to these rooms-they got their own showers and kitchens, so they had the option of not having to eat and bathe with the other scum. Vega kept his pretty bare, being here as infrequently as possible. There were some spare clothes which he wouldn't mind too much if they were dirtied, old pairs of shoes or boots, when being in uniform was deemed necessary. Whatever of his belongings which Cammy had on her at the time they were switched back would be waiting in here for him now. When he entered the room, he found an envelope on the table containing his phone, and that was it. It was all he really needed.

Picking up the phone, he went through the recently dialed list, searching for a particular phone number that he didn't _really _want to dial, but knew he had to. It rang for barely half a second before a worried voice asked, "Cammy?"

"No, sweetheart, but close," he said.

"You bastard, what are you doing to her?" Chun-Li all but screamed at him.

"I don't have much time, and neither does she, so I'll keep this short. I'll be sending you some coordinates in a moment. If you want to see Cammy again, and not Killer Bee, you'd do well to be there as soon as humanly possible. The Doll systems have been offline and out of use for a while now. It could take them all day to set it right again, but don't assume you have much time."

There was a silence on the other end for a few seconds, making Vega more impatient than he already was. He could hear some announcement being made in Chinese on the other end, in the distance. Was she already on the move? "How do I know this isn't a set up? A trap?" Chun-Li asked.

He laughed. "_Mi coneja querida, _I would never let you be trapped by Bison. If you are going to die, I want it to be more spectacular than that."

"You're disgusting."

He hung up. He composed a message as he had promised, sending the coordinates to Chun-Li. He didn't receive a response, and had to assume that she would be there. He slid his phone into his pocket, and grabbed his Shadaloo identification card from the desk. He had some changes to make to the infantry registry.

It was a long time before he finally heard a definitive schedule concerning Cammy's upcoming procedure. Day had turned to night, which benefited him. Rumours flitted around Shadaloo just as they did anywhere, and he'd kept an ear out for them. At first, he'd heard it was already done, but knew that had to be nonsense. Last he'd seen of the area which housed the doll system, there were still a couple of technicians working on it. He remembered vividly the first time he went in there, how furious he'd been. Decapre was an affront to creation itself, and he wanted nothing to do with the disgusting creature. Then Cammy came along, and he decided he wasn't sure which was worse. Decapre, at least, was too deformed to remind him much of his mother. But Cammy...

He laid out his clothing on the bed. He'd tried eating, but didn't have much of an appetite. It was difficult, trying to pass the time when he knew something so important was coming up. He set the helmet beside the black and red clothing issued to guards. Prisoners saw more of the guards than any other member of Shadaloo, and Bison felt the job required a degree of anonymity as a result. This would work in Vega's favor, but he wasn't stupid enough to believe Bison wouldn't notice things had gone awry fairly quickly. He wasn't sure what the man would do to him once he caught him. Vega had crossed Bison once before. Minor infractions had been fairly regular when he first started work with Shadaloo, but triggering Cammy's conscience-giving her an idea of free will-had been a step too far. Bison had been furious at the loss of his host body, who'd been crafted specifically for the resilience both of their genes held against the destructive force of psycho power. Bison had collected a variety of blood samples from multiple sources within Shadaloo, and a few from without, and only a handful had held together adequately against exposure to psycho power. Vega's happened to be one of them, and that seemed to amuse Bison.

Bison hadn't killed him. Hurt him for it, but hadn't killed him. Vega wondered if his prominent status in Spain was the only thing protecting him from that, but then, what did Bison care if one more death was linked to Shadaloo? For whatever reason, Bison had eventually forgiven him for the failure with a roundabout insult-"With your sorts of issues, I hardly could have expected you to not have sabotaged this." Vega had at least known better than to respond with a few heated words of his own. He had been treading thin ice to begin with, and he didn't need to make things any worse. He'd gone back to business as usual, and that was that, for awhile.

But here they were again, due to sheer coincidence. Or was it? Was this a strange way for Bison to get Cammy back to Shadaloo? Once she'd gotten free, Vega had anxiously kept an ear out for any plans calling for her recapture. But Bison didn't bother about it. His body had been destroyed around the same time that Cammy had been freed, so he supposed the man had bigger problems to worry about than getting the Doll back. But even once he was restored, he never made an attempt to take Cammy from her new life. Vega hadn't interfered with her. He remembered thinking about it several times, but wasn't sure what to say to her. It was one of the few times in his life he'd been left without words. And when he finally did see her again, she'd forgotten everything he'd done for her. It saddened him to know that, and really hit him in a way he hadn't been in a good few years. He felt empty, truly empty, like he had when the reality of his mom's death finally sank in. He saw her killed right in front of him, but the initial reaction was shock and anger. Those emotions took over, and they were at least _something _to hold onto. He ran from the grief for months. Avoided all of the desperate journalists vying for interviews and stories, manipulative bastards prying for some emotional piece that might win them some award or another. It further enraged him that this was nothing but a tool for them, nothing but a piece of gossip for the average citizen. So he left it behind. Disappeared to wherever he wanted, away from people who knew his name and his face, and was effectively forgotten. When finally there was nowhere left to run, he came home, only to realize he didn't have one anymore. That was when it hit him. He was alone, and she was never coming back.

Now he was very close to having someone again, and he was determined to not let her get away too. He'd been loyal to Bison from day one, never even thought of selling the man out, betraying him, selling very valuable information to organizations intent on finding and detaining him in exchange for immunity. He'd only done his best, nothing less, and now he was finding that Bison was only willing to give so much back in return. Rank was not enough here, and Vega cared little for money. He was asking for this pardon, to let Cammy go, but Bison wouldn't have it, so Vega was forced to make a choice. She came before Bison, as dangerous as that was. He would lose his position, if not his life, but it was a matter of principles now. Bison had backed his attack dog into a corner, and cornered dogs were very liable to bite.

Dressed in the concealing uniform of a prison guard, he looked himself over to make sure there was nothing that would indicate his identity. He studied the identification card that he'd fabricated for this operation. It was necessary to check out a prisoner, and he knew his own wouldn't work. He'd been blacklisted, wasn't allowed to enter the building at all until Cammy was reset. He didn't know how much time he'd have before Bison realized that the man Vega was pretending to be didn't exist, but he knew it couldn't be very long. He pulled the strap of his assault rifle over his shoulder, and slid down the tinted visor of the helmet. This was his only chance, and he couldn't blow it now.


	18. Chapter 18

She didn't want to turn around to look at who was chasing them. She heard them, still far enough behind that they could consider themselves safe for now, but close enough to see the beams of their flashlights as they glided over the darkened jungle foliage. She was breathing hard as they ran, the air thick and humid, and thunder rumbled overhead, telling her things were going to get a lot more difficult any second now. Vega was behind her still, telling her where to go. If someone caught up, he decided he would be the one to deal with them. There were only a few people tailing them now-he could hear them shouting to each other. More would probably be coming, once they got vehicles and arms together, and found the best route in their direction. That would buy them some time though. Their chances of escape, he thought, were still fairly high.

"Don't look at them, keep running!" he instructed as he saw her finally glance over her shoulder. She could trip and fall if she didn't pay attention to where she was going, especially here with fallen trees littering the jungle floor, roots thrusting up through the slick, leaf covered ground. They couldn't really afford to lose the lead they had.

"Will they catch us?" she cried out. She blinked rapidly as she felt water pelt her face. It was raining now, fairly heavily, and they'd be soaked within seconds. Visibility was also lessened, but she knew that meant the same for the ones chasing them as well.

"Stop wasting your breath on questions and run!" They could catch him, but they were really only most likely to do so if Bison caught up with them. He wouldn't stand for this extreme insubordination, and given Vega's rank, he would want to deal with him himself. The guards were easy enough to put up with, and the jeeps the others were likely jumping into right now couldn't traverse all parts of the jungle as quick as a person could. Too many trees, too many sudden drops, steep hills. Vega didn't look forward to having to utilize that terrain, but if it meant getting out alive, he would do what he had to.

Cammy couldn't help but wonder about their situation. Vega seemed confident enough, but she knew now he always _seemed _confident enough. This jungle was unfamiliar to her, dark, littered with possible predators, venomous insects and snakes. Above all of the normal dangers involved in running through a jungle at night was the added problem of the dozens of armed guards chasing after them on foot and probably with vehicles, too. Not to mention the possibility of a very angry, very powerful madman. Where were they running to, anyway? She was going off of Vega's directions-"left at that tree! right at that rock!" Was he even certain about where this would lead them? And how could he remember such markers when there were tons of them throughout the environment? And could he be certain they were the ones he was looking for, given how dark it was now? And in the rain? She couldn't help but think nervously about all of these things, although ultimately, she knew she had to put her trust in him now.

"There's a drop coming up!" he warned. "Keep an eye out for it!"

She did so, blinking against the rain. It was hard to see, but she lowered her line of sight, looking for what he was talking about, and then cried out when she saw it. "There! There! Where do we go now?"

"Down," he replied. She uttered a short cry of surprise as she reached the edge, and looked over. It was steep, almost straight down. With the rain, the sandy slope had been turned to mud, and the water rushing down made it look incredibly precarious. Maybe if it had been dry, this wouldn't have been as much of an issue. But now it was outright insane.

"Isn't there another way down?" she cried over the rain and thunder.

"No time for arguing!" he answered back as the beams of the flashlights drew closer.

"I just don't think this is such a-" He took her by the wrist, and pulled her along with him as he made his way down the slope. It was difficult to keep their footing, and they both slipped easily in spite of their natural grace. She squeezed her eyes shut as they rolled through the mud, feeling it splatter onto her face. She kept her mouth shut even though she wanted nothing more than to scream. Both were raking their hands through it, attempting to stop themselves from falling, but it wasn't helping much. Finally, disoriented, they came to a stop in the muddy banks of a creek. Catching their breath, they both pushed themselves up, and Vega groaned irritably. He hated being dirty, hated even getting sweaty, so all of this mud and rain water was not helping his mood right now. He tried to wipe it away from his eyes, but the palms and backs of his hands were dirtied with it, too. They were both a complete mess, hair plastered to their faces, possibly crawling with insects.

"Come on, it's this way. Follow the water," Vega nodded. Cammy sighed, climbing to her feet, following the creek through the jungle as he instructed.

"How far?" she asked. It'd be great to feel safe again, and get a change of clothes.

"Just keep going," he instructed. He didn't want her letting her guard down if she thought they were getting close to the end.

She gave an exaggerated groan. "Why won't you just _tell _me?"

"Just go!" he shouted. She did, a little irritated, but looked back up to that ledge one more time. The lights were getting closer to it now.

"They're catching up," she said.

"Wait." He pulled her away from the little creek, further into the jungle. Sliding around to the backside of a tree, he pushed her against it. "Stay still, don't move." She nodded. The men up there would be more inclined to believe the two had followed the worn path than to slide down that slope, she supposed, and the rush of rain water erased all evidence that they'd fallen down in the first place. If the party had known exactly where they went, they wouldn't have stopped to look around. She held her breath as she saw the light searching the area around them draw nearer. Both were completely still as it passed by the tree they were hiding behind, and moved only their eyes to watch it continue on its survey. She could hear them, barely, talking to each other up there. The rain and thunder drowned a lot of it out.

"What's going on?" she whispered. Her back was still against the tree, and she couldn't catch a glimpse of what was happening up there.

"They're splitting up," he whispered back, brows drawing together as he watched two men test their footing on the muddy cliff. He shifted his gaze back up to the others, who were quickly receding from sight, back along the main path. "Two of them are coming down. Stay here."

"I'm not incapable of helping, you know," she replied in a hushed voice.

He frowned at her, though it was difficult for her to tell in the dark, and with all the mud on his face. "Just stay." He watched the men, anticipating their own fall, waiting, waiting-

There! The first slipped with a yelp, and grabbed the second for stability. But then, they both slid, and Vega bolted towards them, pulling the knife from its place at his side, ready to utilize every second of their disorientation, but knowing gunshots would attract attention. A cry made him hesitate, and he whipped around to see Cammy dashing towards him. He strained his eyes to find someone in the dark who may have been after her, and then she caught up with him, wrenching the blade out of his hand. "Don't you do that!" she shouted into his face. "Don't you kill them!"

He blinked, confused, and then gritted his teeth. The men landed in the creek with a splash, pushing themselves to their feet. Vega didn't have time to argue with Cammy, but she'd taken the weapon he'd intended to use on them. Sliding the M16 around, he slammed the butt of the rifle into the back of the first man's head. He dropped onto his side. The second man cried out at the sight, fumbling for his radio, but was knocked to the ground in a similar manner. He blinked rapidly, trying to shake off the attack, but another blow sent him down for good. "Are you insane?" He pointed to the men on the ground. "They could have captured you! Is that what you wanted?"

"I don't want anyone to die," she replied defiantly. "_No one _needs to die."

"I've got a little news for you, sweetheart," he said, sliding the gun back onto his back. "You're going to have to _fight _for your freedom. You're going to have to get your hands dirty, or you aren't going to make it out of here with your conscience in tact."

"If I were to have let you kill them, neither of our consciences would be in tact," she answered. "Killing someone is never the right answer."

"Let's see if you feel that way if they catch us." He didn't want to argue with her anymore. They were very much in a hurry, and didn't have time for ethical debates. He began to run again, following the creek as intended, and she followed with a sigh. She didn't know if there was a way to get through to him. Maybe he really was a lost cause.

She followed him alongside the water for awhile, and she was happy to see that they hadn't been subjected to anymore risky encounters. She hadn't heard so much as a radio crackle, or seen a flashlight in several minutes. But she didn't want to let herself fall into a false sense of security. Things could easily go wrong at any second, and she had to be ready to consider that. The creek met up with a river, and he came to a halt, scanning the banks and listening intently for any noises. It was hard to hear over the sound of the rain pelting the water, but he didn't see anything moving in a manner that alarmed him. He'd rehearsed this route in his head over and over again, had it memorized completely, but it was much easier to think about than to actually do. He wasn't just scanning the water for people, but for animals as well. "We have to cross it," he nodded to the water. It wasn't so deep that they had to swim, but it wouldn't be pleasant.

"Where at?" she asked, a little confused as she didn't see an adequate crossing anywhere near them.

"Here," he replied, and made an example of himself by stepping into the water. It was warm, moved slowly enough to where current was not a risk factor, but he didn't like being unable to see what was in it. He kept his eyes on the surface, searching for anything harmful. But with all the rain falling, creating hundreds of little ripples, it was difficult to tell.

Cammy followed him hesitantly, but decided they were already soaking wet, and maybe the river would get rid of some of the mud. She kept close, looking over the banks for any sign of the men who'd been chasing them. Did the path they followed lead up to this river as well? She had no idea where they were right now in relation to Shadaloo, and she hoped that Vega knew where he was going. The water reached higher and higher as they waded through it, over their thighs, hips, now at their waist. Vega held the rifle above the water level to avoid damaging it, and she kept her arms up as well, though it wasn't as if she needed to keep them dry. She felt little fish darting by her legs, and wrinkled her nose. It was a little gross, but-

She cried out and thrashed madly as she felt something larger slither by her back on the surface of the water. Vega turned around immediately, rifle aimed and ready to fire, which terrified her further. But he didn't see anyone behind her. She rushed through the water as best as she could, and turned around to see it-a snake, swimming away quickly. Vega sighed, holding the rifle pointed upward with one hand, and said, "Next time you scream, make sure it's a little louder. I don't think they heard you in Indonesia."

"I didn't know what it was!"

"It's more frightened of you, you realize?"

She bit her lip as she watched the snake race off, and he was probably right. But then, she had no way of knowing if it were poisonous or not, so she decided she was justified in her fear. "I just don't want to add 'snake bite' to the list of problems we have here," she said.

"Then keep moving," he urged, turning back around. Still, no signs of human activity. Could it really be this simple? This made him even more nervous, and he began to think perhaps he was missing some very obvious trap here. Was Bison toying with them? Had he been expecting this the whole time? The growing, thunderous noise of helicopter rotors caught their ears, and both of them looked up. Leaves fluttered madly overhead, waves rushed through the grass, and both of them squinted against the rain stinging against their faces in an attempt to make out who owned the craft. Cammy held both hands over her eyes in an effort to shield them and see a little better, and she felt a smile spread over her face. It was dark, but she was almost certain she'd spotted the Delta Red insignia emblazoned on the side of the chopper.

"The colonel! It's them!" she cried, pointing in the direction of the receding aircraft. "They really came after me!" A surge of joy and hope overwhelmed her, driven by the idea that she was home free, and she threw her arms around the dirty, wet assassin beside her. "Thank you! Thank you so much!" He didn't know how to respond, slightly embarrassed, arms hanging uselessly at his sides. But she had enthusiasm enough for the both of them, and was now the one practically dragging him through the thick of the tropical forest. "Come on, come on!" she cried, excited. She followed the path of the helicopter, still able to hear the rotors in the distance. Heart soaring, she wondered where it had touched down, and thought that within a few minutes, certainly no more than half an hour, she'd be with her friends again. Safe, out of the rain, wrapped up in a towel or blanket to get the dirt off, deciding what she wanted to eat for dinner, as she now realized she was starving.

The noise of the chopper was closer now, and she could see the lights through the trees. They burst out of the woods, into a small field, and she shouted out with joy at the sight of the machine. It was Delta Red's, and there was Colonel Wolfman, and Chun-Li, both racing towards her. Luwanda jumped out next, securing the perimeter. Ginzu and McCoy, she knew, were probably piloting, and they certainly wouldn't be here long enough to shut down the chopper. "Colonel!" Cammy all but screamed to be heard over the noise of the blades and the rain. She jumped into the air and waved her arms, mostly from sheer excitement. She was certain he saw her, at any rate. Meeting the bear of a man midway between the chopper and the tree line, she threw out her arms and embraced him, both parties laughing as he spun her around once.

"You look a right mess!" the man shouted over the noise.

"I'm alive, at least!" she responded, hugging him again.

"You made it!" Chun-Li said with a smile, and Cammy nodded.

"Yes, all thanks to Vega, he-" She turned to point back at him, but then her heart sank at what she saw. Vega hadn't realized it yet, but they weren't safe. Bison had found them.


	19. Chapter 19

"Look out!" Cammy screamed, pointing past Vega to the man behind him. Even the colonel looked startled when a bright flash of purple crackled through the grass, concussion rushing through the air to throw them all off their feet. The fear in Vega's eyes was plain as he whipped around to face what he knew was going to be the death of him.

"Fall back!" Wolfman shouted, mostly to Luwanda who was still securing the area. The woman spotted the problem immediately, and complied, racing for the chopper.

Cammy felt a strong hand on her arm, and she was being dragged back by Wolfman, Chun-Li racing along beside them. She threw a glance over her shoulder, and saw Vega lifted from the ground by one strong hand around his throat. Booted feet kicked madly, searching for footing, hands clawing at the arm that held him. He knew Bison was beyond furious, which made his calm exterior even more frightening. An eyebrow was raised over white eyes, electricity crackling over his fingertips. "This, I believe, has been a most poor decision on your part," he said, tightening his grip.

"No! Wait!" Cammy screamed, shaking her head. This wasn't fair. They couldn't leave him. He'd be dead before they even left the ground! She pulled her are from Wolfman, trying to get away, but then she was in the chopper, being pushed into her seat. Chun-Li and Luwanda were strapping in as Wolfman began to help Cammy with her own restraints, but she refused. "No! We have to help him!"

"Cammy, no!" Chun-Li cried back, shaking her head. "You can't risk yourself over him!"

She unsnapped her restraints, and met Chun-Li's stern gaze with a fierce look of her own. "He did for me!" She looked over to Wolfman, who was already shaking his head at her.

"This is mad! Do you see that creature out there? He'll kill you!"

"It's a risk have to take," she said as she stood up, searching the cabin quickly for the item which she was looking for. Coiled up neatly, there was a light-weight, metallic ladder, and she picked it up. "I'm going back out there. Have them take the chopper back over the woods, and I'll meet you there." She paused as she hooked the ladder into place. "Any help you all want to offer is welcome, but I would certainly understand your hesitation." Chun-Li and Wolfman exchanged worried glances, unsure of what to do.

"Cammy," Wolfman said gently. He wanted to tell her this plan was suicide. That he couldn't let her do this. But he knew that look in her eyes, that determination. If they left without following the instructions she'd set out, she would likely quite simply leap from the chopper and go back for the guy herself. But if she had company, maybe she would make it back in tact. So Wolfman pressed his lips together, looked towards the cockpit, and shouted, "We're going back out there! Keep it low and steady and be prepared for us to board!"

Ginzu looked back at them over his shoulder. "Are you all insanse?"

"Just do it!" Cammy cried. They were running out of time. Ginzu and McCoy looked to each other, and eventually shrugged. Cammy knew they'd have to do this quickly, and headed back out of the helicopter.

Luwanda shouted out with the rush of adrenaline coming with the dangerous mission, and Wolfman joined her. They were moving cautiously, the wind and rain biting at their skin. She glanced back, spotted Chun-Li behind her. For her protection, she knew, more than out of a favor to Vega. The colonel came after, and Luwanda brought up the rear. McCoy had climbed into the back, awaiting their return. Being the biggest, he'd be able to help them in on their climb up.

Her boots squished noisily in the muddy ground. She didn't wait for the others to catch up, instead running off in the dark, heart racing. She heard a cry up ahead, the sound of someone being tortured, saw purple sparks light up the night through the trees. She winced at the noise, felt fear, but it was too late to turn away from this now. She hesitated at the tree line. Bison's back was to them, but that didn't block her view of Vega, who'd been thrown to the ground and looked a pitiful mess. The others caught up, waiting with her in the dark.

"I'm not sure if I should kill you, or not," she heard Bison say, tilting his head as he listened to Vega gasp desperately for air. Cammy bit her lip as she saw him try to crawl away, panting and grimacing at the pain. He looked like a dying animal cornered by its hunter. "If I kill you, then I can't cause you anymore suffering. And I think you deserve to suffer." She winced again as she saw Bison kick Vega in the stomach. He was wrenched up by his hair, and Cammy caught sight of blood running from the corner of his mouth. He still looked lucid enough to glare at Bison who squatted in front of him.

"I only asked-" Vega didn't get to finish that sentence, instead screaming and writhing in pain as bright violet sparks erupted from the hand tangled in his hair, raced along his skin, ignited his nerves. Cammy didn't think she could watch anymore. Her hand found its way to the knife she'd taken earlier from Vega, and suddenly his warning came to the front of her mind. To get out of here, she'd have to dirty her own hands with someone's blood. Squeezing the handle, she frowned. This was different. This was defense. She was not the one attacking someone, threatening someone. It had to be different than murder.

"I've told you this before," Bison said in a condescending manner. "She gladly left you here to die, after all you'd done to get her out safely. Are you so broken and desperate that you can't see what's plainly in front of you?" Vega was released, and he fell into a heap at the man's feet. He struggled to push himself up from the ground, too proud to quit.

"Are you sure you want to do this Cammy?" Chun-Li whispered as she crouched beside her friend. "You don't owe him anything."

"I owe him my life, twice over," she said. "Time to pay my debts." With a nod to Wolfman and Luwanda, who were each carrying their own firearms, she crept silently out of the woods towards Bison. It was the most intense moment of her entire life. There stood not more than a few meters away Bison, the man responsible for her life, a person wielding an enormous amount of power, and she was going up against him with little more than a knife and her own determination. And for the life of an unrepentant killer who she had to change.

Bison sensed the attack seconds before it came. Just as she pulled back her arm to strike, he was gone and she stumbled forward from the momentum. Vega blinked rapidly at the sight of her as he pushed himself to his feet. Was Bison toying with him? Hadn't he gotten her to safety?

"Where'd he go?" Wolfman said in a low voice, bracing his weapon against his shoulder and searching the area.

"I say we leave now before he comes back," Luwanda responded quickly.

"He isn't gone," Vega said. He wiped blood from his mouth onto the back of his hand, and wrinkled his nose in disgust. He was tense, searching for Bison, but he was disoriented.

"Got him!" Luwanda shrieked, and both she and Wolfman aimed right for him, emptying a few rounds at their target. But he was gone as soon as he'd appeared.

"Damn it!" Wolfman growled under his breath, searching for the man again.

"Everyone keep close," Cammy whispered. "Don't give him any room to get between us." She took hold of Vega's wrist, and he pulled it away. It startled her, and she asked, "You want to get out of here too, don't you?"

"He knows better than to try to hide from me." The voice startled all of them, and then Cammy's muffled screams brought all of their attention to her. Bison reappeared mere centimeters in front of her, one strong hand covering her face. With the help of his psycho power, he lifted her from the ground, watching her struggle.

"Let her go!" Luwanda cried, gun aimed. He disappeared again, and they all felt their stomachs drop, terrified that they'd lost her forever. But then, they heard her scream again overhead.

"If that's what you'd like," Bison called down, and let go of her. She flailed for a second as she fell, the ground rushing up so quickly to meet her. Wolfman ran for her, arms outstretched, and they both crashed to the ground, groaning from the pain.

"Just run!" Chun-Li shouted, coming to their aid. And all of them did, not daring to hesitate again. Luwanda took up the lead, gun aimed forward, ready to shoot at whatever got in her way. The chopper could still be heard up ahead, hovering above the trees. She glanced over her shoulder, seeing Chun-Li with an arm around Cammy. Wolfman was on her other side, helping her move. She'd sprained or broken something in the fall, and she limped along with their support, every step sending fire up her leg. And that other fellow-the one Cammy was so determined to find-was bringing up the rear. He didn't exactly look well, and was straggling, but he didn't seem to be ready to give up yet.

The jungle was dark, and the rain still fell hard. They were all on edge as they dodged between the trees, glimpsing desperately for any sign of Bison. And he was there, toying with them, grinding their nerves. A flash behind, beside, up ahead. He would appear for seconds, just long enough for them to see him and react, and then disappear again to repeat the process. The group came to a grinding halt when finally he appeared just inches in front of Luwanda. The woman gasped, raised her weapon, tried to stop and shoot, but then he was gone again.

Then, he appeared between the group, emitting a blast of psycho power as he did. They were all knocked from their feet, the energy of the attack leaving them with the feeling of being stung. "Now, now," Bison said, turning in a small circle, looking for his two wayward assassins. He found Cammy, and smiled. "There we are." In a few strides, he reached the young woman, and pulled her up by her hair. Cammy growled and kicked her feet at whatever she could manage to hit, trying with her hands to force Bison's hand away. But he ignored her like a parent disregarding a child's tantrum as he searched for Vega.

"Let go of me!" Cammy cried, thrashing. It hurt to even move one of her legs, but she was too desperate to let the pain keep her from trying. "Stop!"

"Let her go! Put her down or I'll shoot!" Luwanda threatened. Wolfman also had his weapon leveled at the man, who didn't seem at all concerned.

"Now," Bison said loudly, unable to locate Vega as he turned another circle. Chun-Li had regrouped with the two Delta Red members, and there was no one else to be seen in the jungle. Cammy still struggled, demanding her friends to shoot, even if it meant risking hitting her, that she'd rather die than be in his hands again. Bison snapped his head to one side, hearing something in the woods. It was too difficult to see anything. "Running already, Vega? Abandoning her?" He turned again as he heard another noise, this time from behind. "Let's see if I can't find a way to get you back here." He looked down at Cammy, who was still struggling. Purple energy ran along his arm, over his fingers, and into Cammy.

She shrieked, body twisting around in an effort to get away from the source of the pain. But it just kept coming and she couldn't get away. The others were shouting for her, unsure of how to help or what to do. Wolfman looked to Luwanda, hoping she had some idea, but received nothing. Chun-Li shook her head, unable to stand the sight of her friend being tormented. Gritting his teeth in rage, Wolfman finally decided to not try was worse than anything Bison was doing to her, and with a scream, charged at the man. Luwanda and Chun-Li followed suit, and Bison raised an eyebrow at them. The pain lessened marginally for Cammy as he focused some of his energy on defense, throwing up a barrier just in time to knock his assailants back. Then, it returned full force, one last burst of fire in her veins. The others pulled themselves to their feet, rage mounting as they realized just how useless they were to their friend now.

Bison relented for a second, leaving the girl gasping for air, groaning, struggling less now. She'd never felt a pain like that before, but she couldn't let it stop her from trying to get away. She still pushed against his hand, tried to pull herself from him. "Come now, Vega, this is just _cruel_ and _selfish _on your part," Bison mocked, knowing the man had to be near enough to hear her screams.

"L-let...let me..go," Cammy panted.

Bison responded with another attack, another wave of intense, horrible pain and she screamed. How could a man be capable of this? She'd do anything to get away from it, tried desperately, fingers clawing at his arm, but that only made it worse. Her friends watched, feeling helpless, unable to get her away from the man. Cammy screamed again, barely able to breath.

Something dropped from the trees above, and landed on Bison's back. The man flinched, unwilling to let go of Cammy just yet, and tried to pry the attacker off with his other hand. Pulling his assault rifle up with both hands, Vega slipped the shoulder strap under Bison's chin, and started twisting it around as fast as he could. Bison's eyes went wide, and he shoved Cammy to the ground. Her friends rushed to her immediately, dragging her away. They had to use this distraction to get away from Bison. As she pulled up by Wolfman, she gasped, "Help him? Too? Please...?" She felt too weak to say much more, and the colonel seemed greatly conflicted.

"I'll do what I can," he responded, handing Cammy over to Luwanda and Chun-Li.

"Colonel?" Luwanda whispered harshly, shaking her head. "He'll kill you!"

"I said I'd do what I could," the man repeated. "But I can't promise anything." He would try, for Cammy's sake, at least.

Back with Bison, Vega was still holding on, having twisted the gun around as much as he could, the shoulder strap wrapped tightly around Bison's throat. He was clawing frantically at Vega, unable to breathe and focus long enough to muster up any psycho power attacks. He knew even trying to teleport was useless, as Vega would still be there, strangling him all the while. Colonel Wolfman burst in on the gruesome scene as Bison threw himself to his knees, surprising Vega in the process. He slipped off of Bison, completing half a flip to land in the dirt on his back. He groaned, but then started when he felt a pair of hands on his ankles, dragging him through the grass. He shot up, and there was some minor relief when he saw it wasn't Bison. "Can you get up?" Wolfman asked. Vega did so, pushing himself to his feet, the world seeming to tilt and spin around him.

It wasn't too far to the helicopter, and both men were relieved to see that Cammy had made it up safely with the help of Chun-Li and Luwanda. Wolfman smiled, ready to be done with this entire fiasco. He took hold of the rungs, and started climbing, glancing down to make sure the other man was following. Wolfman pulled himself up into the chopper with the help of Luwanda. Thanking the woman, he squatted, holding a hand out to the other man below, ready to pull him up as well. He wasn't so sure who this guy was, why he was dressed in Shadaloo's uniform, or how Cammy knew him, but if he was important to her, then he'd do what he could to help him. He took Vega by the arm but there was some resistance. The alarmed look on the other man's face told him everything he needed to know without looking.

Wolfman didn't hesitate, yanking his sidearm out of his holster and leveling it at Bison's head. The man had somehow followed them up here, and was currently latched onto Vega's ankle. Before Wolfman could squeeze the trigger, his hand was slammed back against the seat beside him without Bison touching him. Chun-Li took hold of Cammy protectively, and Luwanda screamed at the pilots to get moving. Bison grunted, trying to pull himself in as Vega kicked madly at him, slamming a boot into Bison's face a few times before the man's pupils turned white. Purple sparks jumped from his finger tips, racing along Vega's leg. He screamed, fingers digging against the metallic floor of the chopper, charged with so much psycho power that sparks raced from his own fingertips, fizzling out along the floor.

"Do something!" Cammy cried, starting forward to help, but she knew she was too weak to do much. Chun-Li held her back, knowing this and not wanting her friend to get hurt. Vega shuddered like someone being shocked, clawing at the floor, kicking, doing anything he could to free himself. Bison dug his fingers into the Vega's leg for more support as he hung halfway out of the moving chopper, pouring out all he had on a man who had crossed him one too many times. The whole cabin was in chaos as everyone shouted to each other to do something, but what? And Vega's screams continued as he convulsed against the floor. Blood leaked from his ears and his nose, and he could taste it in his mouth. He thought his bones were splintering, couldn't take anymore of the torture.

It was Chun-Li who smashed her foot down onto the side of Bison's head, hard. It left him disoriented enough to give Wolfman a clear shot, and the man didn't hesitate. It didn't quite make its mark, instead burying itself just above Bison's collarbone. Before Wolfman could take aim again, Bison was gone, having lost his grip on Vega. Chun-Li seized the lightweight ladder, pulling it in quickly before Bison somehow found his way onto it again. They were too high off the ground for him to survive that kind of fall. Or, at least, she could hope, though she knew somehow the man would still be alive down there. It wasn't easy to kill him.

"Is that guy gonna make it?" Luwanda asked, cringing as the man in question spat a mouthful of blood onto the floor.

Wolfman drew his brows together and shook his head, unsure. He hadn't ever believed those hyped-up tales of Bison's supernatural powers until this night, and had no idea what sort of toll it would take on a person. Cammy had been hurt by it, but she seemed to be doing a bit better than the man curled up on the floor in a pool of his own blood.

"Rose," Cammy said. It was clear in her voice that she felt weak, but she did her best not to show it. "Find Rose."

"That purple-haired gal?" Luwanda said, nodding.

"She came with us out to Bangkok. Said we'd need her help by the end of this mess," Wolfman said.

"Then she refused to come with us on the chopper. And I thought she was just trying to get a free trip out of us!" Luwanda said with a grin. "So she might be some help after all?"

Chun-Li nodded. "If there's anyone on the planet who will know what to do, it's her."

Cammy managed a smile as she leaned her head onto her friend's shoulder. It hurt to even breathe, but Rose, she could help them. She'd know how to deal with whatever Bison had done to them. Then she frowned again, eyes settling on Vega and the steady stream of blood. Would he make it? Would he stop bleeding, or would he be dead before they landed? He didn't seem quite lucid, not with the way he was staring, so oblivious to everyone around him. Luwanda and Wolfman were doing what little they could. But Rose would fix this. Rose had to fix this. And maybe after seeing how badly Bison could harm him, how badly he could treat him, then she could convince Vega to change. Maybe he would forget who he was, like she had forgotten who she was after escaping Shadaloo. Maybe it was all naive and childish of her to think, but she had to hope. Not just for him, but for herself and the fate she'd been made for as well.


	20. Chapter 20

_"I used to hate you," he says. Processing._

_Response: "I do not understand hate, Commander. Explain."_

_Sigh. An exaggerated exhalation used in order to indicate a degree of agitation. Commander Vega does this quite often when he speaks to me. "To hate is to dislike something. More than dislike it. It's this burning, seething, awful feeling in you. You hate something because it angers you, it upsets you. Do you remember anger and upset?"_

_I consult my database for these words, and their meanings are present, added to my database by him eighteen days ago, ten days ago, respectively. "Affirmative." I consider the statement with all its implications as I come to an understanding of 'hate'. And now I must know-"Why do you hate me, Commander?"_

_He shakes his head slowly-body language used in the negation of a statement. "I don't hate you anymore. I did."_

"_How does one change hate?"_

_The commander takes time processing this query. He then replies: "I realized my hatred for you was misplaced." He looks down at the dirt, sits against the hood of the car, both feet flat on the ground. He is not dressed in uniform, and he does not wear his mask. I have informed him of the risks of such negligence. Were the commander to be identified, he would be apprehended quickly due to his importance in his native country of Spain. He tells me that he does not need to hide from me, because he trusts that I will not give up his identity. This is correct-I can not surrender a Shadaloo operative to any authority save that of General Bison's. "You had no choice in what you looked like, or that you were created at all."_

"_My appearance and existence causes you hate?"_

"_In a way." Again, he sighs, he closes both eyes briefly. One must always be aware of one's surrounding, and disabling the primary method of doing so is not recommended. "No, I mean that-" He is unable to form a complete response. His confidence ratings are currently low. This is often the case during specialized training. On missions or in regular combat training, his confidence ratings are adequate. He is very exact and quick to respond to a situation. His eyes lock with mine as he speaks, an indication of the seriousness of the matter which he wishes to discuss. "Do you know how you were created?"_

"_Affirmative. General Bison's DNA was used in my creation. Your DNA was also selected from a group of individuals whose genes were observed to be most resilient when exposed to the ambient levels of psycho power which General Bison would infuse in his substitute body."_

"_Do you know what that entails in regards to your appearance?"_

"_My appearance is not relevant to my function."_

_"It is to me."_

"I do not understand. Explain, commander."

His mouth starts to move. No sound comes out. His hand covers his face, moves into his hair. I consult my database for the meaning of this body language. It is not present. "You look like my mother. Somewhat." His voice is unusual. The rapid movement of his eyes indicates a level of increased agitation.

_"I do not understand 'mother'. Explain, commander."_

_"A mother is, in the most clinical sense-the sense which you will most easily understand-is half the reason for a human's creation. It takes a father and a mother-or, a male, and a female-to create a child."_

_"Do I have a mother?"_

_His hands cover his face again and his shoulders are shaking. This can mean two things-that they are laughing, an expression of pleasure, or that they are crying, an expression of intense sorrow. This is what the commander has taught me. When his face is unobstructed by his hands, I see no tears. Tears may indicate laughter, but more often are generated by crying. He does not appear to be crying, and I have never witnessed him do so, but facial expressions are difficult to decipher. His lips are curved up-a smile-as though he was laughing. His eyes do not have a smile. Emotions are complicated, especially Commander Vega's. But in spite of their difficulty, he continues to try to teach them to me. Because I can not process, I ask: "Commander, status report?"_

"_No," he says with a tone I recognize as anger, and shakes his head. "No, ask me, 'how are you?'" So I do, and he is satisfied with this. "I'm upset. Do you remember that?"_

_I nod. I have never felt upset. I have never felt anything. The commander wants me to, however, it seems detrimental to my functioning. "What makes you upset, commander?"_

"_You don't have a mother, bumble bee." He calls me this, because he does not like to call me a killer. Emotions are confusing. I do not understand how one can kill, and teach others to kill, to follow their given orders, but be upset when another does the same. General Bison will not allow him to address me by this new name, or any other, and so he must use my given name in most circumstances. But here, in specialized training, he refuses to address me as such. "And I don't either."_

_"I do not understand. How were we created without a mother? You have said a mother is necessary-"_

"_You were made. Not born, but made. In nature, a mother bears a child. But Bison, he's gone beyond nature, and creates things without the need of a mother and a father."_

"_You were made as well?"_

_"No," he says. "I had a mother. I had a father."_

_I notice the use of past tense in his statements. "They were terminated?"_

_He nods. "I miss her. And now, you look just enough like her to-" He stops, and the muscles of his jaw clench. He is looking away from me. "That was why I hated you. I couldn't stand seeing her in you. Of being reminded of her when I looked at you.__" I did not understand the statement, but he continued: "And you were...you were soulless. You weren't her. Not anything like her. You were some shell, some robot. It was difficult to deal with."_

_"I do not understand 'soul'. Explain, commander."_

"_It's what makes you a person. I want you to be a person. You're beautiful and you deserve it."_

_I understand beautiful. It is a very complicated subject, but one which Commander Vega is proficient in. The sky may be beautiful at sunrise, but it is not beautiful in the same way that I am beautiful. The rain may be beautiful, but in other instances, it is not beautiful. I am still learning how to properly parse beautiful. "Do you have a soul, commander?"_

_His eyes widen at the question, an indication of surprise, bewilderment. "I don't know anymore." In most cases, the commander is what is referred to as 'very confident'. He believes he is good at his work, superior in skill level to those he works with, and that must be the case, as he is in the highest position within Shadaloo which he could possibly currently obtain. When I am in his presence alone, however, he is different. When he teaches me words like 'upset' and 'anger' and all of the others, he often displays them. He displays them quite often with those he trains, as well, but he displays to me others which he generally does not in front of others-happy, funny, sorrow, sad, love. _

_"Have you lost it? May it be replaced?"_

_"I don't know," he says. His voice is quiet. Perhaps it is sad._

_"Perhaps if you may find me a soul, then we will find yours as well, commander."_

_Slowly, his lips curve up again, and he nods. "Maybe, bumble bee. Maybe."_

She kept her eyes closed, not really ready to wake up just yet. It wasn't even light out, why was she even awake? She _hated _being up so early, it was simply depressing that not even the sun was up to greet her yet. With a quiet sigh, she rolled onto her side. The sharp pain in her leg made her gasp, and that's when she realized she wasn't in her own bed. Heart racing, she slowly peeled back the blanket, and glanced down at herself. Still quite feminine. There was one horrifying possibility ruled out. And this bed, it was too comfortable for a cell in Shadaloo. This place was familiar to her, though she couldn't place how just yet.

She slid out of bed. Her sides ached. Her throat was raw. Her ankle hurt-she could feel it was wrapped tightly to limit movement, and she tried not to walk on it. Using a wall as support-and a means to better navigate the dark-she limped out of the bedroom and into the hallway. Slowly, she began to see where she was, and she smiled. She was safe, in Rose's small home in Italy. She could hear voices speaking softly up ahead in a dimly lit room, and began to pick out their words.

"Why did you help him?" Chun-Li asked.

"I helped him for Cammy's sake. He is the only thing one could consider human that she is even remotely related to. She's always wanted family. It could help ease her inner turmoil, calm her some, and in turn, she could possibly change him. They could help each other, and if I can foster that, then I will."

Cammy stepped out of the hall finally, and approached the two women. "What's going on?" she asked. She saw a few bloodied cloths on the table, and Vega was on the couch, asleep. She assumed, anyway. "Will he be okay?"

Rose didn't sugar coat it. "He will die." Cammy felt her heart drop, even though she knew she probably shouldn't. He was a killer. He'd go on to kill more. But it was so difficult to hate him when she knew the lengths he'd gone to for her. And did giving up his own life for her help exonerate him? No, not for the number of wrongs he committed, but surely, it was a start? Evidence that he could be fixed? Like she had been fixed? "Not now, maybe not even within the next few months, and if he's lucky, maybe not for a few more years. The attack Bison made against Vega has left a residual energy that will continue to deteriorate his body from the inside out. What Bison has done to him will, in time, kill him, unless Bison decides to take it back." She pressed her lips together and shook her head. "And I doubt very much that he would do such a thing."

"Can't you do anything?" Cammy asked quietly.

"I'm afraid I can't," Rose said. "I know that it upsets you, Cammy. I'll admit, it is difficult for me to sympathize, but I understand how it makes you feel."

Cammy looked down at him. So he was asleep. And maybe he had a little time left. Maybe with his impending death, he'd change some. She'd heard stories of similar situations changing others' outlooks on life, so why not his? "Is he going to wake up again? Before..."

"Yes," Rose said with a nod. "And I'm sure he would be most happy to know that you're all right."

Chun-Li crossed her arms and shifted her weight. It made her uncomfortable, helping Vega. She didn't exactly advocate the killing of others, but if he was already dying to begin with, and by his own leader's hand, no less, why interfere? He'd done enough harm, and had potential to do so much more. She'd seen criminal cases in which a victim of some deadly terminal illness lost all appreciation for the lives of others, and killed indiscriminately. A sort of sick mindset that if they were dying, they'd take as many down with them as they could. And she could very much see Vega adopting such an attitude. She couldn't agree with saving him.

But Cammy felt differently. She frowned as she looked at him, tapped the toe of a mud-encrusted boot. How long had it been since they were dashing through the jungles of Thailand? How long ago since she killed in a corridaas him? How long ago since she woke up in his bed, in his body, shocked and horrified? The events seemed as if they'd lasted years. It was funny how one's perception of time worked. "When is he going to get up? And do you think he'll need somewhere to hide from Bison?"

"Cammy," Chun-Li began again, worried for the interest her friend was taking in this dangerous criminal. "You don't have to worry about that. You know what we have to do with him."

Cammy bit her lip and frowned. "But he helped me."

"And he's killed so many others," Chun-Li replied as gently as possible. Cammy tended to have a childish mindset sometimes, but Chun-Li understood it wasn't a result of a willfully immature personality-she quite simply hadn't had the time to grow up yet. "We can't leave him to wander around freely, even if he's finished with Shadaloo. I'm sorry Cammy, but he needs to be apprehended. Then no one has to worry about Bison taking him back."

"But if he's going to die anyway, can't you at least give him a chance?" Cammy tried.

"He's used up all his chances, Cammy. The second he murdered his first victim, he gave up his chances," Chun-Li said.

"And what about me? Have I given up all mine?"

"That's an entirely different matter," Chun-Li said, shaking her head. "You're a completely different person now."

"What if he is, too?"

"I doubt it." Before the conversation could advance any further, a cry went up into the air from the hall, and all eyes turned towards the source of the noise. There stood Luwanda and Colonel Wolfman, the blonde woman spreading her arms wide and grinning madly.

"When'd you wake up? And you don't even say anything?" she cried, trotting towards Cammy and throwing her arms around the girl. Cammy smiled and hugged back until Luwanda pushed her away to hold her at arms' length. "Are you all right?"

"I like to think so," she said with a smile and a nod.

"The bastard did a number on your ankle, there, but I suppose we're lucky that's all you broke," Wolfman said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"It's not so bad," Cammy said. He was right, after all-Bison could have done much, much worse to her. "How long have I been asleep?"

"About a day and a half," Wolfman replied.

"Yeah, you got to miss the hell we had to go through just to get the pair of you out of Thailand! When you passed out, I thought you were a goner, for sure, but Rosie there made sure you were okay," Luwanda explained.

"We were worried at how long you were sleeping," Wolfman said. Then he smirked. "But then we all realized, it's about par for the course for you."

"Are you insinuating that I'm _lazy, _colonel?" Cammy asked, feigning offense.

"I don't know any other adult who naps as much as you," Wolfman replied, throwing an arm over her shoulder and pulling her into a hug to show the statement was good-natured.

"Where are Ginzu and McCoy?" Cammy asked.

"Back in England. They had to get our equipment back home, put in the report. We let them know you were all right, though," Luwanda explained.

Cammy smiled, considering all of her friends, and said finally, "I'm quite lucky to have all of you." Her friends had all fought hard to bring her back home as safely as possible, and she couldn't ask for more.

Luwanda waved her hand and wrinkled her nose. "Ahh, leave it. You're making the mood all sentimental now."

"All right then," Cammy said with a shrug. "Then...might we get something to eat now? I'm terribly hungry after all this."

"You're terribly hungry after damn well near anything," Luwanda said, sticking out her tongue.

Cammy smiled, but said, "Thank you, all of you."

"It's what friends are for, Cammy," Chun-Li said, embracing her friend. It was a relief that all of this was over. Granted, the rescue of Vega brought on a whole new set of issues, but she supposed she'd rather deal with him than Bison.

"Friends are for infiltrating dangerous terrorist organizations and facing off against supernaturally powered madmen?" Cammy asked with a smirk.

"Well, if not for that, then what?" Luwanda replied with a shrug and a smile, throwing an arm around Cammy's shoulder as she lead them to the kitchen. It made walking a lot easier to have someone to lean on. Her ankle still hurt, but she was trying to be careful with it. There were aches and pains all over her body, she supposed from the use of Bison's psycho power. But she was designed to be as resilient as possible. She watched as her friends talked, wondering what to eat. A simple, mundane conversation after the intensity of the past few days. She felt like she was home, and she smiled. Her eyes followed their movements as Rose asked someone to fetch one ingredient, someone else to grab another. She wondered about Vega's fate as her friends began making food. She wondered about her own fate, as well. Because of her genetic makeup, was she destined to become a monster? Twisting around in the chair, she tried to catch a glimpse of the room they'd just come from. Unable to see what she was looking for, she stood up.

"You should keep off that ankle," Wolfman advised. "If you need something, just ask."

"No, it's fine," she said, limping towards the opposite side of the room. Glancing through the threshold to the other room, she saw what she was looking for. The couch which Vega had been left on was empty. Was he awake? Had Bison, so incensed by rage, come here to finish the job he'd started? Her heart began to beat faster at the notion, and she limped towards the room. Bracing herself against the wall, she looked around the room.

"Cammy, what is it?" Wolfman asked.

"Oh, you're friend's awake?" Luwanda asked. Chun-Li tensed up, eyes shooting towards Cammy. She set the bottle of spice down on the counter, and in a few quick steps, was at Cammy's side.

"Where is he?" Chun-Li said quickly, pushing into the other room cautiously. She made sure to keep her back to her friends, not wanting to give Vega any advantages as she searched the small area. It was empty, and she inhaled deeply as she looked down the unlit hallway. Rose's home was not large, and there were only so many places for him to hide.

Luwanda stepped into the room after Chun-Li, a little confused with the way she was acting. As she glanced around, she noticed the front door was left ajar, and said, "Well, here, he must've wanted some fresh air. The door's open."

"He shouldn't be walking around much," Wolfman said. Wolfman pushed open the front door, and glanced around outside. He drew his brows together, spotting nothing. "Well, he isn't out here."

Cammy looked back towards the empty part of the house. "Try back there," she nodded. But she was already beginning to put two and two together. The open front door was misdirection. He hadn't gone out that way, or they would have seen him when Wolfman stepped outside. Luwanda, Wolfman, and Chun-Li all searched the rest of the house, but came up with nothing.

"It's like he disappeared," Luwanda proclaimed, shaking her head. "Where'd he run off to?"

Cammy narrowed her eyes, coming to rest on the couch. "I don't know," she whispered, feeling defeated. Had he left on his own? Had someone taken him away? Why would he leave without saying good-bye to her? Her eyes drifted towards Chun-Li, who was pulling on her shoes. "Where are you going?"

"Outside. I have to find him," she said.

And then it struck her. He hadn't been kidnapped. And he probably hadn't been asleep while she and the others had been talking about him. He ran off to avoid being hauled off to prison by Chun-Li. He'd left, but how far would he get, as injured as he was? Chun-Li would certainly catch up with him quickly.

"Well, don't go out alone," Wolfman said. "It's still dark out."

"He may have headed into the woods around back of the house," Chun-Li reasoned. "We can look there first."

Cammy watched as Chun-Li and Wolfman disappeared through the back door, once again feeling helpless. How long would he keep running? Bison was probably after him. Now Chun-Li was dead set on jailing him. And in his injured state, how far could he actually get? Even if all of this was over for her, it seemed like it never would be for him. Closing her eyes, she whispered under her breath, "Good-bye, commander. I hope you find what you're looking for."


	21. Chapter 21

Six months had passed since her hectic flight from Shadaloo. Since she swapped bodies with the organization's third in command and managed to survive. Her life had settled down again, and she hadn't seen or heard from Bison at all. It was a big relief, to say the least. If he hadn't made a move by now, it was very likely he wouldn't be making one at all. It took her a month or so before she could sleep easy, but it was nice to finally be able to live life normally again. She hadn't heard much from Vega, either, since he disappeared from Rose's home that night. A few weeks after that, she'd received a letter with no return address. Inside the envelope, there was another smaller envelope, and a silly drawing of a cat smacking a little bee to the ground. "_Buena suerte_, _gatita," _it said. The smaller one contained a few checks. "_For all of the expenses. It is extremely important that you stagger the deposits in the manner shown below."_ He'd written out a list of random she accept the money? What expenses could he have possibly been talking about? Maybe he'd bought more expensive food. But no, he'd have to have been feeding an army to justify these checks.

It had prompted her to search Vega's name online to see what was being said about him in Spain. He'd been absent for a good portion of bullfighting season, and apparently someone had spotted him, bleeding from his nose, appearing to be pretty distressed. It'd given rise to rumours about his health, and as if to confirm it, a few days later, he announced he was resigning from bullfighting. Apparently, it wasn't uncommon for matadors to retire and then resurface, so some people wondered if it was a publicity stunt, while others wondered if he was suffering from a deadly illness.

It was a few months after that she found out he was dead. Cammy remembered staring at the article as if it simply weren't possible. Bison had finally gotten him, she supposed, although it was inevitable, given what Rose had said of his condition. That had been in June. She remembered speaking with Chun-Li about it briefly, and she seemed almost relieved. One less criminal in the world to worry about. Cammy wondered if things would've turned out differently for him if she'd asked him to come home with her instead. She knew things would've gone differently if they'd never gotten caught up in Bison's experiment to begin with. But either way, it was all over now, and there was nothing she could do to change anything, as much as she hated it. She kept the little drawing he'd sent her. It was held to her fridge by a magnet, and she couldn't bring herself to toss it out. While he may have been a criminal and a murderer-and she couldn't ignore that-he had also been the reason she'd ever broken free from life as a Doll to begin with, the reason she was still alive today. She couldn't ignore that, either.

Things never felt lonely, though. She had her friends around to keep her company. Delta Red always kept her busy. Chun-Li dropped in every once and awhile. Guile and Julia had visited with Amy, as had been promised nearly a year ago. It was Julia she was speaking with on the phone now as she half-heartedly tried to tidy up her home. "Well, yeah, of course I'll be going for Christmas..." she said into the phone as she picked up some empty cups and headed for the kitchen. She'd been trying to keep her home a bit neater. It took a lot of work, and she often forgot to pick up after herself, but she had to keep trying. "If I didn't, I think Ken or Guile would fly over here and drag me back across the pond themselves." She smiled at her friend on the other line as they made some remark about the stubbornness of the pair, and wondered how they ever got along to begin with. Since her friends had come to visit her in the summer, she'd be going over to America at Christmas for them. She was looking forward to it. Christmas was the best time of the year, and it would be nice to get out of the house.

She focused on the telephone, feeling a little guilty for letting her mind wander as her friend spoke about her own plans. It wasn't that Cammy was uninterested. She was, quite simply, having a little trouble focusing. She was trying to plan the details of the trip when Julia had called, and her mind was still going over that. But the conversation was wrapping up, and she was ready to pick up where she left off. Setting the phone down on the counter, she headed towards her couch where her laptop waited, ready to price some plane tickets. There were few things more fun in the world than travelling, and she was lucky to have the opportunity. She had friends and acquaintances scattered all over the globe, it seemed, which gave her plenty of chances to visit somewhere new.

A knock at the door caused her to sigh, and she glanced towards it. How many interruptions today? She supposed, at least, she wasn't in the middle of paying for her tickets. Two of her cats darted away from the door. They were the asocial ones, and always hid under her bed when she had company. The others never minded guests, practically ignoring them completely, especially if they didn't get an ear scratch out of them. After unlocking the door, she cracked it open to see who it was, and her breath caught in her throat. His hair was brown now, and cut shorter, though not by much. He looked terrible. Tired, glassy eyes glanced up as she opened the door. But still, she told him, "You look pretty good, for a dead man."

"I like to think I look pretty good, for any sort of man." She smiled. She never thought she'd miss an attitude like that. Surprising him, and herself, she responded by pulling him towards her by the shoulders and hugging him tightly. She'd never really gotten to thank him for getting her away from Bison again, and with the news of his 'death', she thought she never would. He was still hesitant with the contact, but at least this time, she supposed, he put his arms around her.

"Where have you been all this time?" she asked, closing the door behind him, after checking the hall for any unwanted visitors. She still had to be cautious, especially if Vega was here.

"Here, there, everywhere," he responded with a wave of his hand. He was trying to appear light-hearted, but something seemed to be weighing down on him. "Never stay somewhere for too long, when he's looking." Bison, he meant. She raised an eyebrow as she begin to wonder why he would still be hunting for his wayward assassin if he was supposed to be dead.

"But doesn't the whole world think you're dead now?" Cammy asked.

Vega smirked. "Everyone but him, I'm sure. He's no idiot. It may have thrown him off for a little while, but it was something I did more for the public than him. People outside of Spain and South America aren't so likely to recognize me, but it still needed to be done. And after all, disappearing is an art I mastered under his tutelage. Ironic." He laughed a little, then instantly regretted it, tasting blood. He glanced at his hand, flecked with red, and closed it quickly. But Cammy was very observant.

"You're still sick," she said. He didn't respond. "Have you tried a doctor?"

He laughed again, shaking his head at her. "You're so naive, still," he said quietly. He didn't mean it in a derogatory manner, she knew. "A handful of people on this planet know what psycho power is, Cammy. Only two of them fully understand it, and neither one is willing to help me."

She frowned at that. It was true. But she hated situations that had no way out, no resolution but a most unfortunate one. "There's no way to make him help you? To make him take it back?"

"There's nothing you can threaten him with," he said. "That's part of what makes him so powerful. No family to worry for, no lover to keep from harm's way, no interest in wealth that could be stolen, not even a fear of death or bodily harm." He turned his eyes to her. "It's not often that I acknowledge this, but I _am _going to die." He went quiet, staring in an awful way as his eyes drifted towards the floor. "And there's nothing I can do about it. But I suppose, that's always been the case, for everyone." He coughed, and it was a wet, awful sound. She couldn't keep from cringing, but her eyes quickly softened when she saw the blood on his hand.

"Are you okay?" she asked. Perhaps a stupid question-the answer was painfully obvious. But at least, she decided, it let him know she cared. He shook his head, and kept coughing, leaned back against the wall. She watched as he tried to keep himself quiet, but it wasn't the sort of thing that could be helped. He slid to the floor, hand over his mouth as he kept coughing. She knelt next to him, unsure of what to do. She put a hand on his shoulder. It got worse, and she winced as he hung his head between his knees, heard something splatter against the tile. She gripped his shoulder harder, staring as blood continued to drip from his nose, from his mouth, out onto the kitchen floor. Then, she heard him draw in a few breaths. He blinked rapidly, staring at all of the mess on the floor. "Vega..." she said quietly, wondering if this was it, if he was quite simply going to fall flat and never get back up.

"I never wanted to die," he said, trying to take deep, even breaths between words. He shook his head back and forth, stray hairs sticking to his face. "I didn't want to get old but-" A shaking hand made its way to his face where he tried to wipe away some of the blood. "I didn't want-

"It's okay," she said, even though she knew it wasn't true. She didn't know what else to say, and it was what her friends said to her in her moments of duress. She sighed quietly, looking over him, the pathetic mess that he was right now. It wasn't so long ago that she hated him, nearly just as much as Bison. She probably would've taken some satisfaction at the sight of him like this. How quickly all of that changed. "You should stay with me," she decided finally.

He inhaled slowly, and said tiredly, "Dangerous."

"If Bison wanted either of us, I think he would've found us by now. Don't you?" He didn't respond. He would know better than her, so that made her slightly uneasy. She had never considered that perhaps Bison was biding his time, waiting for the perfect opportunity to scoop them both up at once. But Vega was already dying, and coming at them apart would be easier on him than coming at them together. "Just stay with me," she said again. "I'll help you."

"I don't need your charity," he said, and that arrogance was back in his voice again. He drew away from her, and she gritted her teeth at him.

She gave him the sternest look she could muster. "Who said anything about charity, you obstinate ass?" she said. "I'm trying to offer you my friendship, trying to show you that I want to care about you. Don't you understand that? Or have you spent so long inside your own head, hating yourself under all of that vanity, that you forget that it _is _possible that there is someone out there still who could bring themselves to care for you?" He didn't look at her as she spoke, didn't respond, so she continued. "Maybe you aren't the most personable of individuals, and maybe you've got quite a lot of blood on your hands. But so do I, and I'm willing to give you a try. So you'd damned well better accept that!"

He was glaring at her now. He didn't like being told about himself, that much she knew. Didn't like anyone to expose the mess under the pristine facade. She only caught a glimpse of it by living life as him for a while, and she could remember that awful loneliness, dealt with by claiming to need no one but oneself, and all of the other terrible things he felt every day. No, she wouldn't pity him. But she wouldn't pretend not to know how messed up he was. Standing up, she glanced back down at the floor where the reminder of his ultimate fate still stained the tile. "Now," she said, a little more calmly. "I'll clean this. You know where the bathroom is, so feel free to wash up."

He watched her silently as she headed further into the kitchen, looking under the sink for something to clean the kitchen with. She was pretty tenacious, saying all of that to him. And he knew she was stubborn as well. He glanced down at his bloodied hands, felt it drying up on his face. He couldn't have much longer. Would it hurt to spend it with someone who was trying to be his friend? He stood up, and headed to the bathroom to wash away the blood.

Living with Vega taught Cammy just how much Bison's attack had taken its toll on him. The random bouts of internal bleeding weren't the only problems. Sometimes, he forgot who she was, and in the worst of times, he forgot who _he _was. Those things were difficult to deal with. He'd ask her a question in Spanish, and she was never sure what he was saying, but she would catch the word "_mamá_" and frown at him. He'd say it again when she didn't respond, concern in his face, wondering why his apparent mother wouldn't answer him. Then she had to watch as he once again realized, over and over, that was dead. She didn't know what to do in those situations. It was difficult, and confusing, and it made her wonder how much longer he was going to last.

When he was himself, he pretended like nothing was wrong, but she could tell he knew. When he'd wipe blood from his nose, she caught the look of dread, concern, terror. She wondered if this was why he'd come back to her, after all. Maybe he knew it was getting so bad that he'd have trouble taking care of himself. Maybe he knew he was dying, and wanted to spend his last few moments with her. Whatever it was, she didn't mind. He'd helped her out. It was her turn to help him.

But it could be a chore sometimes. Things would wind up all over the place. She found things where they didn't belong quite often. The time one of the cats jumped out at her when she opened the freezer nearly gave her a heart attack, and he sincerely declared he had no idea how it had gotten in there. Some of the things he did made her nervous to ever leave him alone. Such as the time when he poured himself a glass of bleach, completely ready to drink it as if nothing was the matter with that scenario. "No, don't do that!" she cried, rushing to him and quickly tearing the cup from his hands. He stared at her, bewildered, watching as she poured his drink out.

"That is expensive, you realize," he said to her.

She groaned, put a hand to her head. "That was _bleach_," she said through gritted teeth, trying to be patient.

"Now, I know it's an acquired taste, but it certainly isn't poison," he answered. On the verge of tears from the frustration, she grabbed him and pulled him into a desperate hug, squeezing him tight. His mind was deteriorating, along with the rest of him. He rarely had an appetite, very often claiming that it hurt to eat. He could feel stinging pain in his stomach nearly all of the time, and it was a chore to get him to keep even a piece of toast or a few crackers down. More and more often, it seemed, he spent his time asleep. She thought of old animals who were too tired to move anymore. Who laid down and knew they wouldn't get back up again.

* * *

In the late hours of the night-or early hours of the day, if you were the glass-half-full sort-the mind is known to play tricks. When he spotted the apparition, he'd really wished it had been nothing more than a trick of the mind. When his eyes fluttered open at the softest of sounds-because an assassin, no less, one trained in the art of ninjitsu, is a pretty light sleeper-he did not expect to see the deep crimson uniform of the general of Shadaloo. "Back to finish it?" Vega muttered quietly. He didn't have the strength to be loud, but didn't want to give the bastard the satisfaction of seeing him alarmed, either.

"Finish? When I said you deserved to suffer, I meant it. I'll let this thing take its course, however long that is," Bison responded, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked down at the pathetic shell of his former lead assassin, sprawled out on a cheap thrift store couch covered in cat hair. "Unless you would like to hear what I have to offer."

Vega laughed a little. Should've seen it coming. He wanted something. What would he get out of it, though? He coughed, pushing himself up so as not to get the furniture dirty. He felt blood dripping onto the hand clamped over his mouth, not daring to look at Bison. The man was already getting his enjoyment out of all of this. He pulled his hand away to speak, and it was shaking. "What is it then?" he asled.

"S.I.N. has been taken over."

"What do I care?"

"You never were very patient," Bison said, exasperated already. "Shut up, and pay attention." Vega glared at Bison defiantly, but really didn't have much to say. "Now. You may remember the machines created with the intention of becoming my next hosts?" He received no response, but continued anyway. "Within a few weeks of your escape, we were able to resolve all major issues, and activated them. But one of them became self-aware. The very one which we attempted to deposit your spirit into. So, as per usual, you are still causing me a headache, even when you aren't physically present."

"Happy to be of service," he said.

"That's pleasant to hear, because if you value your life so highly as you claim, then you will be returning to it." Vega wasn't sure how to respond. Did he go back to Bison's side, after what he'd done to him? "In exchange for your service, I'll withdraw the psycho power still eating away at you, have what damage has been already done repaired at Shadaloo, and your position reinstated."

Vega stared at the man as he considered all of that. He could be fixed. He could go on living. Giving life back to a dying man was a very powerful bargaining chip. What was there that Vega wouldn't do to get to stay alive just a little longer at this point? He couldn't even bring himself to care that he'd be back under Bison's thumb, crawling back like the dog the man had said he was. But it was better to be alive than dead. "What is it I have to do?"

"You'll infiltrate the ranks of the Intimidation Network in South America. Android number fifteen-or 'Seth', as he is calling himself now-has taken control. You will assist me in destroying them from the inside He will be suspicious of your motivations, given that he is aware of your former position within Shadaloo. But loyalties all across the board have begun to fracture, and I suppose now is as good a time as ever for a culling of the herd," Bison explained. "It should be easy enough for you to muster up some reason to hate me, correct?"

"I could think of a few things," Vega said.

"Then do you accept my offer?" Bison asked.

Vega was hesitant to respond. Getting back his life seemed like it should be a no-brainer. Nobody wanted to die, after all. But he glanced towards Cammy's room, thought about leaving her behind, and it was all that made him hesitate. A sigh from Bison brought his attention back to the man. "You aren't considering refusing this offer over her, are you?" Vega narrowed his eyes. "Haven't you realized yet that you are nothing more than a new pet to her? Something interesting at first, something to coddle and love until it becomes, well, _boring. _Until she becomes used to the idea of you, and wonders why she ever wanted to put up with you in the first place. She'll come to think of you as a burden, as more trouble than you're worth, especially considering the state you're in now." Bison tapped a finger to his lips. "Cleaning all of your messes is going to become tiresome, after all."

Vega's eyes found their way to the carpet, unable to meet Bison's gaze. Splatters of red jumped out at him, and he frowned at the sight of the stains. Burden. It was a good word for him now. How could he expect Cammy to deal with all of this? To put her at such a risk as well? "Don't make her into your only chance at a normal life, Vega. You aren't prepared for one, and if you are to stay with her and refuse me, you wouldn't have very long at all, anyway. You belong with Shadaloo, and as its leader, I am willing to forgive your transgressions in order to gain your assistance in this matter."

Inhaling slowly, Vega turned his eyes back to his superior. "Well," he said quietly. What was there to struggle with in this decision? He couldn't stay with Cammy anymore, this much was apparent. And if Bison was willing to not only take him back, but to give him back his health, it was the safest bet for him now. "I suppose, so long as you're to follow through."

"I certainly would not send one of my operatives into a mission at a disadvantage," Bison said. "And if you even attempt to run from this once I've restored your health, remember this, how easily I found you."

Vega nodded slowly, as the possibility had come to his mind that he could quite simply try to disappear once Bison had fixed him. But the threat was very persuading. He pushed himself to his feet, and glanced around the apartment. It would, very likely, be the last time he ever saw it. "There's one more condition," Vega said.

"I've given you more than I'd give many others in your position, Vega," Bison warned.

"It isn't for me." It was all he needed to say.

Bison sighed, but ultimately nodded. "I'm finished with trying to take Killer Bee back. These new machines are superior to the Dolls at this point, anyway. And I suppose I've learned you would make it more costly for me to have her in my possession." He watched with only the mildest sense of curiosity as Vega staggered into the kitchen, one hand against the counter tops to support his weight. He scrawled something onto a piece of paper on the fridge before setting the pen down with a shaking hand, and returning his eyes to Bison.

"Then it's settled," Vega said.

Bison smirked. "Good." And with that, they were both gone as if they'd never been there to begin with.


	22. Chapter 22

There was blood on the floor near where he'd been sleeping, but she couldn't find him. Heart racing, she called out his name once. Maybe she just hadn't looked hard enough. There was no response. She checked every closet, the bathroom, the shower, even under her bed, but couldn't find him anywhere. Everything of his was still there, even his shoes. She rushed to the door, glanced down the hall in either direction. Straining her ears, she listened for footsteps. She headed for the stairs, forgetting her own shoes in her hurry. There was no sign of him anywhere.

Rushing outside, she looked around, unable to find anyone who even remotely resembled him. She called out for him once. There was no response, not a head turned. She supposed she should have expected it. He himself had told her he never stayed in one place for too long when Bison was on the hunt. But he hadn't even told her good-bye. She glanced around again, though she knew at this point he could be anywhere. If he'd left in a state of confusion, surely someone would notice him when he began bleeding, or talking gibberish or...

The idea that he'd gone somewhere to die was one she didn't want to consider. That he knew it was done, but didn't want her to wake up to a corpse. Tears stung her eyes, and she didn't know why she cared so much whether or not he died. She could tell herself all day about what he'd done wrong with his life, but she couldn't make herself not care about that small part of him that had still been normal. The part that he'd tapped into when she was created, when he decided, he would do something good, even if it was misguided. Even if it was simply because she looked enough like his mother. It didn't matter to her the reason.

With this in mind, she headed inside, back up the stairs. Maybe he'd come back. Maybe she'd never see him again. Either way, she'd be prepared.

She entered her home, greeted by the mewling of her cats. It was morning. They knew they'd be fed then. She looked around the otherwise silent apartment, wondering if maybe he'd come back when she was out. But that was a long shot. She wandered into the kitchen in search of the cats' food, when the drawing on the fridge caught her eye. Something about it had changed. The picture was still the same, and the words were still there, but a few had been added. "_The safest place for the matador now is before the bull." _She didn't understand, and wondered if perhaps it'd just been more gibberish he'd written due to the deterioration of his mind. But something, just a tiny little something, began to scratch its way to the surface. Some words of advice.

She shook her head as she remembered. He'd told her before she fought the bull using his body that a bull couldn't see what's in front of its face-that it knows better what is beside it. The matador in front of the bull was practically invisible, though not exactly a position she'd call 'safe', especially when the creature began to charge. But until it did, maybe he could be considered 'safe', waiting for the next time the horns would come for him.


End file.
